


Threads that Bind

by kingburu



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Action & Romance, Amnesia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-09 06:57:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14711279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingburu/pseuds/kingburu
Summary: Nico’s own heart drops in his chest. He kneels to his feet, offering a hand to his fallen friend. “Jason—”And immediately gets slashed by Jason’s gladius.“Agh!” Nico falls back in pain, clutching his wounded arm.Jason wobbles to his feet. He looks at Nico through hazy eyes, pointing his sword directly at Nico’s chest. “How the hell do you know my name?”--A quest to find Jason turns into a journey to figure out why he was missing in the first place.





	1. The Night We Met

 

Warm lights illuminate the small bar. Purple curtains decorate the walls, dressed beside beautiful carvings of the Gods. Only a few customers linger, leaving Nico and his circle of friends.

 

Frank lets out a long groan and sinks heavily in his seat. He runs a hand through his hair, the bags apparent beneath his eyes. A nice peach aroma permeates from his chalice. “No more kids.”

 

“What, really?” Percy looks crushed. “But your kids are so _cute._ ”

 

“You say that when you don’t have one daughter clogging the toilet with gold, and then you have to fix it but you _can’t_ because your other daughter’s turned into a goldfish and you don’t know if she’s lost down the pipes or not,” Frank rambles. He props his head with the palms of his hands, genuinely exhausted.

 

“Well if you’re serious, I could do it for you.” A smirk curls against Leo’s lips. He downs his fourth shot (immediately, the enchanted glass fills with another shot of tequila) and somehow conjures a pair of celestial bronze scissors. “Snip, snip.”

 

Frank stares at him. “You are _not_ coming anywhere _near_ me with your disgusting manbun.”

 

“Hey, hey, hey—” Leo waves his hands, fidgety as usual. “For the record, my hair is _gorgeous_. Easy, breezy, Leo-girl. It makes me look hot! Plus—I haven’t had the time to cut it because I’ve been hard at work.”

 

“Does that mean you haven’t had time to bathe, either? I can _see_ the stench coming off of you.” Percy pinches his nose for emphasis and looks back to Frank. Makes hand motions. “So when you say gold, do you mean _gold,_ or sh—”

 

“Percy.” Nico reels the trio back in with his voice, irritated. “Can we get back to why you called us here?”

 

It’s amazing how after fifteen years Percy’s smile can still send Nico’s heart running. The way Percy’s lips spread from cheek-to-cheek, happy creases apparent at the corners of his eyes. Nico’s… _baggage_ with Percy isn’t necessarily in a romantic sense anymore, but their history makes it hard for Nico to _not_ feel a bit anxious around him.

 

Nico takes a moment to absorb the men around him. It’s only been a few months since he’s seen Percy. Whether Nico is paying visits to Camp Halfblood or Jupiter, he always manages to run into the old hero. Frank is a constant presence in Nico’s life—he makes sure to visit both his sister and brother-in-law at least once a week and play with his nieces. His brother-in-law is tired and ragged, but extremely happy as a stay-at-home dad. Percy’s arm is full of tic marks from his time with the Legion. Leo is the large anomaly—constantly traveling with Calypso around the world doing who-knows-what.

 

Part of Nico wonders if he himself has aged well. He keeps tabs on all of his old friends, but most of his time is spent being an ambassador between Olympus and the Underworld on behalf of his father.

 

“Annabeth and I got together with Chiron and Lupa. And Magnus.” Percy slouches against his seat, the smile still on his face. “We want to build a new camp.”

 

Silence. Everyone else blinks, exchanging looks with one another.

 

“Is that even… _possible?_ ” Frank’s eyebrows furrow and he waves his hands. “Camp Jupiter and Camp Halfblood have always been around. I don’t think that you can just—you know. Build a _new_ one.”

 

“It was also tradition that Greek and Roman demigods weren’t supposed to interact. And that gods didn’t _have_ to claim their kids.” Percy waves his hand dismissively. “We changed that. Annabeth and I spoke. We’re thinking about putting it in the Midwest. It’s hard enough for unclaimed demigods to try and make it to the coast. People have died. Kids have died. It’s not fair.”

 

There’s no doubt in Nico’s mind that Percy’s thoughts are on Thalia. How close she was to Camp Halfblood before ultimately meeting her death. She’s alive today because of Zeus’s blessing and because of the Huntresses—but not everyone is that lucky.

 

If he thinks hard of enough, Nico can think of all demigods that died too soon because they couldn’t make it to a safe haven or because they didn’t know they were a demigod. The deafened heartbeats make his chest ache.

 

“It’s a good idea,” he decides. “Percy and Annabeth saved _me._ But almost at the cost of Annabeth’s life. We need to make it easier to save demigods. Not harder.”

 

Percy seems pleased with Nico’s answer. Leo and Frank both look contemplative, but neither disagree.

 

“Yeah, but the Midwest?” Leo snorts. “I’m from Texas. Ain’t exactly rainbows and sunshine down there.”

 

“Yeah,” Percy blissfully agrees. “It’s crappy down there. That’s why they need a camp. To meet in the middle.”

 

“I don’t think the gods are going to be happy with you trying to change… _politics_ again.” Frank’s eyebrows mesh together doubtfully and he flashes a look of concern towards Percy. “You’re not exactly on their good side. Like…ever.”

 

“My dad likes me. That’s all that matters.” Percy flashes a grin. “Besides, I already have a name.”

 

His friends lean forward with anticipation, eyes glued to the Son of Poseidon.

 

Percy raises his head proudly. “Camp Jupiblood.”

 

*

 

The rest of the night devolved into everyone yelling at Percy for the stupid name. Between Leo and Percy, it didn’t get much better. (“What about Camp Halfiter?” “Uh’no,” Leo slurs after the fifth shot hits him, “Camp Seven, because we saved the world?” “That’s a little arrogant, don’t you think?” Frank grimaces.)

 

“We settled on Camp Demigod,” Percy announces the next day at the principia. He rubs his temples, still nursing a hangover.

 

Their setup reminds Nico of Mount Olympus. A child representing each god in a U-Shape formation. Nico sees Percy with Piper to his left and Annabeth to the right. Reyna to the right of Annabeth, then Hazel and Frank. Katie Gardner and Will. (Will catches him staring. After all these years, staring Will in the face still makes Nico anxious and he has to look away.)  A few new faces make the hair on Nico’s forearms stand erect, but he chooses to ignore the feeling in his gut.

 

For a moment, his gaze fixes on Thalia. Her posture is coarse and demeanor is regal. A true Child of Zeus as the Lieutenant to Artemis’s Huntresses.

 

The back of Nico’s throat dries and his hand curls on the top of his jeans. Thalia, Percy, Hazel, and himself. At least one child from each of the Big Three is here.  

 

“Good,” Magnus Chase—a newer face to Nico—says slowly. “Because Camp Jupiblood was stupid.”

 

“You’re right,” Alex Fiero quips. “Camp Midgard actually sounded better than that.”

 

“Thanks.” Chase looks awfully proud of himself.

 

“No way. Camp Midgard isn’t… _all-encompassing_ enough.” Percy wrinkles his nose.

 

“Midgard. The realm of humans.” Fiero arches an eyebrow. “Pretty all-encompassing in my opinion.”

 

“There are nine realms,” Sam al-Abbas insists. “Midgard covers everyone who lives here.”  

 

“ _Please_ let’s not get into another argument about this,” Annabeth intervenes. She groans, brushing a hand over Reyna’s, and tosses her head back. “Seaweed Brain worked _really hard_ on Camp Jupiblood. It was painful to watch. I’d rather not go back to the drawing board.”

 

Thalia chuckles to herself, loud enough or Nico to hear. “What a dumbass.”

 

“I still liked Camp McHotstuff,” Leo grumbles.

 

“ _Yeah_ , no. Camp Demigod works.” Percy’s demeanor sobers in a way that Nico hasn’t seen since the Battle for Olympus. It’s calm. Steady. “The main purpose of this camp is to create another safe haven for halfbloods like us. A _fair_ one.” He looks across the room. “Over a decade ago, when all I knew was Camp Halfblood—I didn’t think I could make it past eighteen.”

 

Percy pauses and extends a look to Chase and Fiero.

 

He continues. “And then I made it to eighteen and found out that death doesn’t mean the end of training and saving the world. Some of us die too young trying to make it out alive. Or not even knowing _why_ we had to die in the first place.”

 

When Magnus Chase frowns, his expression looks much like Annabeth’s.

 

The mood is grim. Nico’s gaze falls to his beloved sister, who too looks tired from years of age.

 

“Not only that, but I found out that if I was born Roman, I could live safe life. Get married. Have kids.” Percy looks to Piper, gaze soft. “And actually be _happy._ I could still _die_ , but I wouldn’t be living every day wondering if tomorrow would be my last fight.”

 

“So what do you propose?” Thalia asks.

 

“We build another camp. All inclusive,” Percy says. He grins mischievously. “We’ve already made a deal with the gods that every child has to be claimed by thirteen. They’re a little… _selective_ with that rule, but that just means we keep trying. We make it easier to find demigods and bring them to safety. So no kid has to die too young ever again.”

 

Looking around the room, there isn’t one face opposed to the idea. A bit of pride swells in Nico. He’d never tell Percy, but he’s elated to be one of the first people informed of this idea. Nico remembers sitting at his father’s feet, when Hades didn’t have a permanent seat with the twelve Olympians. He remembers that even when his father’s views were taken into account, he still felt like an outsider.

 

Annabeth reveals the blueprints to the new camp. Nico can see the inspirations drawn from Halfblood _and_ Jupiter. Cabins are aligned in Haflblood’s Greek Omega. The principia is to be three stories tall: a floor for Greek, Norse, and Roman demigods each.

 

“The _plan_ is for the elevator to link to Hotel Valhalla,” Annabeth explains. She strokes her chin, eyebrows knitting together. Magnus flashes a smile in her direction. “I haven’t quite figured that part out yet.”

 

“Percy and I can work on integrating both camps,” Reyna says. She views the blueprints over her lover’s shoulders. “This could be a hub for all demigods. We should figure out safe transportation between all three camps and the hotel.”

 

“Leave it to us.” Connor Stoll winks. Both he and Travis poke Leo in the ribs from either side. “We’ll put Leo to work.”

 

Leo, on his third cup of black coffee, grins from ear-to-ear and fist bumps the pair. “Consider me working.”

 

Nico decides not to mention the pair of scissors he sees in Travis’s hands—which are dangerously close to Leo’s greasy manbun.

 

“What about camp directors? Or…praetors?” Frank asks. “Who’s going to be leading this camp?”

 

“Well…us, I hoped.” Percy pauses from his ministrations. His hands are folded together, lips pressed tightly. For a moment, he looks reluctant to go on. His gaze travels the room—pausing on Nico for just a moment too long—and he finally speaks again. “I really want to get Jason back.”

 

The name pulses in Nico’s ears. He feels his cheeks flush with sanguine—and hopes no one notices. Beneath the table, he rattles his fingers against his knee, nervous.

 

Again—hoping _no one_ notices.

 

Then a second thought occurs to him. He’s not quite sure _why_ he’s nervous.

 

“Oh, Jason,” Magnus says. He looks around the room, oblivious. “I remember him. Why isn’t he at the meeting?”

 

At first, Nico examines the expressions of his comrades, hoping someone can offer a good explanation. His gaze ends at Thalia, but even she doesn’t have an answer.

 

“I’m always busy,” she offers. Her lips twist into a grimace. “Honestly, I thought I’d see him here.”

 

“He’s not _dead_ , is he?” Reyna’s gaze falls to Nico, eyes wide. Everyone’s does.

 

Hazel and he exchange looks. Nico contemplates the question—heavily.

 

“He’s not dead,” he confirms. He shoves his anxiety down in the pit of his heart, commanding it to still. “But that doesn’t mean I know where he is.”

 

No one thinks much of it. _Everyone’s_ been busy with their own lives. Frank and Hazel are retired, safely raising a family in New Rome and occasionally shadowtraveling between Vancouver and New Orleans. They try to keep tabs and mentor young campers.

 

Annabeth is busy with her own architecture firm, occasionally travelling to and from the Bermuda triangle to rescue more demigods. Nico knows that in the last few years as praetor, Percy is trying to leave the camp in good hands. Getting ahold of Leo seems impossible, as he seems to enjoy travelling the world, with Piper as the occasional partner in crime.

 

Nico knows he’s the _prime_ example of Missing in Action. He prefers being Hades’ ambassador, shadowtraveling from camp-to-camp and from Underworld to Mount Olympus.

 

(He thinks back to a month ago, when he attended a godly meeting in Hades’ place. It was an unsettling power move on his father’s part. Zeus’s gaze still sends chills up Nico’s spine—harsh and judgmental. Somber. Nico’s hands curl into fists. Something about the way Zeus stared at him has made Nico’s blood boil since.)

 

“Let’s put a comma on that thought and keep going,” Magnus says. If he notices the confusion in the room, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he looks back to Percy and Annabeth curiously. “When are we setting this plan in motion?”

 

*

 

Percy pulls Nico aside after the meeting. “Take a walk with me?”

 

Nico looks to his sister and brother-in-law. Hazel flashes him a smile and kissing him on the cheek. “Don’t be late for dinner.”

 

Thalia and Reyna meet them outside the principia. Although Reyna hasn’t been a praetor in years, she still looks noble as she carries herself. She and Thalia banter, but quickly stop when they see Nico arrive.

 

They walk through the fields of Camp Jupiter, and Nico takes in the scenary.

 

The Temple of Pluto catches his eye, precious gems and bones apparent from the far distance. Ever since the war, more people had paid their respects to those who’d lost their lives. It’d be a full century soon since the last time Pluto had a child. Nico has a feeling that the next Child of Hades—Greek _or_ Roman—would have an easier time transitioning to their world. He’d make sure of it.

 

“Right after the war, Jason planned on coming back and forth between the camps to make things better,” Percy begins. “The Senate wanted to elect him as the Pontiac Mass Effect.”

 

“ _Pontifex Maximus_ ,” Reyna interjects. She shoots a look to Percy, very much giving a, _‘I will stab you if you mispronounce that again_ ’ look.

 

“I remember that.” Nico thinks back to what feels like _years_ ago.

 

“Jason promised Kym that he would honor her at both camps. And make sure she gets an action figure. Distributing the funds is tough.” Percy sighs, his mouth curling into a grimace. “I remember that my father wasn’t too happy with that.”

 

“You have to admit: we’ve gotten a bit more forward with the gods.” Thalia smirks and nudges Nico approvingly. “I heard you attended a meeting in Hades’ place last month.”

 

Reyna and Percy pause, both looking at Nico like he’d grown a second head.

 

“Believe me, I only watched.” Nico wrinkles his nose. “Consider it the longest six hours of my life. Hearing the gods bicker back and forth about menial things.”

 

Such as, ‘ _Hephaestus, I’m pleased that you named The Cloud after me, but why can’t I have my **own** account?’ _ Or, ‘ _Thank you, husband! Tinder is a wonderful thing in my domain!’_

 

Nico shudders.

 

“Jason was going to be an ambassador like yourself. For both the camps and Mount Olympus,” Percy says. Their group stops—and it’s only then that Nico realizes that they’re in front of the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. “But it suddenly wasn’t a thing anymore.”

 

“What happened?” Nico asks. He remembers post-war being happy that Jason had found his way.

 

But the next year for fifteen-year-old Nico had been spent as Head Counselor for the Hades Cabin, dancing around Will Solace, and gaining more duties from his father. Jason and he crossed paths on their way to meetings on Mount Olympus—Nico with his father, and Jason on his own. The latter years of their friendship had them seeing each other very sporadically.

 

“Hard to say.” Reyna’s gaze flickers. “The title of Pontifex Maximus is only granted to whomever the Senate deems worthy. Jason was that person.”

 

“So why didn’t he take it?” Thalia frowns.

 

“Couldn’t tell you. But does that sound like him? Mister, ‘I’m Always Fifteen Minutes Early’ Sunshine?” Percy says. He shakes his head in dismay and then stares intently at the Jupiter Optimus Maximus. Almost glares on it. “I talked about it with Piper and Leo. Maybe he was on a mission. A quest. But…this is too long. I asked my dad if he knew, but he gave me this look, like—like I needed to drop it.”

 

“You think something fishy is going on,” Nico translates. He peers to the Jupiter Optimus Maximus himself, gaze wandering to the statue’s eyes. It immediately makes the hair on Nico’s arms stand.

 

“I was hoping you could find him.” Percy turns back to Nico, shoulders slumping. “He’s one of my best friends—or at least he was. And we’re not getting the whole story here.”

 

Reyna places a hand on Nico’s shoulder. “You can travel anywhere in the world in the blink of an eye. You have your sources.”

 

“You knew about the Norse Demigods before Annabeth ever told us,” Percy interjects. His tone isn’t of anger—but he stares at Nico intently. “ _And_ the Roman demigods.”

 

Nico swallows the lump in his throat. He can’t help but step back for a moment, staring at the trio. “That isn’t—”

 

“No—Nico, I’m not blaming you.” Percy _immediately_ shakes his head. After all these years he finally understood when he made the other demigod uncomfortable. But his look still remains one of concern. “But you’re the best chance of finding him. Or at least figuring out why he’s missing.”

 

It’s not that Nico doesn’t _want_ to find Jason. “I told you he wasn’t _dead_ —that doesn’t mean I know where he is.”

 

“Can you at least try and find him?” Thalia asks softly. She brushes a hand over Nico’s arm, her demeanor grave.

 

He looks into her electric blue eyes and is immediately reminded of the King of Gods. And worse—Jason himself. Thalia’s usual wild, electrifying energy is replaced with worry.

 

Nico understands why he’s the best choice. Reyna and Percy have to stay _here_ if they want to implement Camp Demigod. Thalia can’t leave the Huntresses. He knows any one of them would drop everything in a heartbeat—if they could.

 

He submits, shoulders sagging. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

A smile spreads across Thalia’s lips. Nico has never been hugged by Thalia Grace before—but it feels warm.

 

*

 

That night, Nico dreams of grasslands.  

 

The world is dark, not a star in the sky. He surveys his surroundings, trying hard to place himself. _C’mon, Di Angelo._ He’s been everywhere around the world, but everything feels…big.

 

Crickets chirp, filling in the silence that Nico feels around him. Fireflies find Nico, allowing him to see through the expanse. Long, thin trees reach toward the dark sky. Grassy hills whisper as the wind brushes against them, bobbing high and weaving low.

 

Nico has been here before—but he can’t remember why.

 

A snarl cuts through the muteness, making his skin crawl. The hair on the back of Nico’s neck stands tall. He reaches for his sword—only to realize he didn’t have it.

 

The growl eases into a disgusting chuckle. Nico’s eyes water at the sound. He blinks away the tears, trying desperately to find the source of bemusement, but feels frightened. Like a small little boy.

 

 _‘They’ve been wandering for days_ ,’ a voice growls. _‘We should just eat them.’_

 

 _‘He’s low on blood_ , _’_ another voice sniggers. He coos in a way that comes off as a cackle. _‘What a sorry excuse for a—”_

 

 _‘’IDIOT!’_ howls a third voice. _‘He won’t be as easy the second time. Do not underestimate him._ ’

 

A large _SLAP_ rivets against Nico’s ears, and he flinches. He can’t see—but he hears whimpers, like two frightened dogs.

 

 _‘We’ll get him_ ,’ The third voice declares coldly. _‘The Son of Jupiter._ ’

 

Nico startles awake at the sound of wolves howling.

 

*

 

The next morning Percy sees Nico off, a wistful twinkle in those sea green eyes. There’s no doubt that _Percy_ wants to be the one to find Jason—but can’t. Once Percy uttered the words of building a new camp, Greek, Roman, and Norse demigods alike began cementing the idea.

 

(It goes without saying that the Romans could build and rebuild camp in a matter of hours. The tricky part was melding all three domains—and that was _before_ Percy could get in touch with the Kanes for further expansion.)

 

“I can’t help but wonder if you’re using this whole camp thing as an excuse to bring Jason back,” Nico muses as they make it to the edge of New Rome.

 

“I’d go to hell and back for the guy. You know I don’t say that lightly,” Percy says. He inspects Nico carefully and awkwardly touches the other demigod on the shoulder. “For any of my friends.”

 

There was a time where Percy’s charm would have sent Nico to cloud nine. Instead, Nico shakes his head. “The camp is a good idea. Jason would be proud.”

 

Percy grins. Looking into those sea-green eyes, Nico sees fear for the first time. Nervousness that was lacking the day before. Percy knows how to deliver speeches and gain peoples’ trust—but he’s terrified that this camp won’t work.

 

It’s probably best that Nico doesn’t mention his dream. He doesn’t want to give Percy false hope.

 

“So what’s your plan?” Percy asks.

 

“Going to visit the Fates. Like I said: just because he isn’t dead doesn’t mean I know where he is. But I can probably ask them where he’s going.”

 

“Yikes.” Percy’s nose wrinkles. “I met them in a subway once. I felt like they were mocking me.”

 

“They’re not…for the faint of heart.” He can’t say he’s ever met them in good graces himself, but he’s hoping his diplomacy will get him somewhere.

 

Shadows pool around Nico’s feet, humming pleasantly at his presence. They tug at his legs, ready to take him where his heart desires. Before he leaves, he notices Percy’s smile.

 

“Anything you want me to say to him?” Nico muses.

                                         

“Nah. I’m just…happy that you’re happy, man.” Percy claps a hand on Nico’s shoulder. The touch tingles. “Give him a big ol’ kiss. From me. Like th—”

 

“Don’t you dare kiss me, Jackson.”

 

*

 

Nico shadowtravels to the Empire State Building. The security guard tips a hat to him, locking eyes firmly with the demigod as Nico eases into the elevator.

 

His stomach does nauseating somersaults as he makes it to the 600th floor. Part of him thinks it’s akin to how Percy gets nervous on an airplane. Entering the domain of the King of the Gods puts his heart ill at ease.

 

Olympus is like its own New York City. Gold buildings stand tall, reaching above the sky and probably into space. Nymphs and satyrs and aurae move around the streets in a fast pace. Apollo’s music fills Nico’s ears, in a silky jazz that reminds him of the 1930s.

 

Nico bobs and weaves through the crowd—until he comes across a store that reads, _Three Fates Boutique._ Perfect.

 

In the window, Nico notices a gold mannequin dressed in fine robes meant for an emperor or a leader. Next to it is a beautiful gown in shimmering fabric that pools at the floor. If he blinks, he sees spirits moving around the bustier.

 

A bell rings as he pushes the door open. The inside is made of vibrant red brick, with studio lights high above the ceiling. Gold mannequins pose on small stages, wearing beautiful gowns or suits from different ages. One mannequin wears a beige v-neck sweater and a smoothly cut corduroy suit. Another reminds Nico of a gown he saw on the Oscars. Every outfit _brims_ with life. Literally.

 

The cashier catches his attention. “Welcome to Three Fates Boutique! The one and only place to get clothing fit for a god! My name is Tassie, how can I help you?” 

Nico swallows a lump in his throat, uncomfortable. Seeing someone wear the fabric life force of a dead mortal would do that to a person. Hades is infamous for his pinstripe suit made out of the souls of the damned—but this was more _Forever 21_ and less _I Am Lord Death._

 

“Why, why, what a handsome man you are,” purrs another wind spirit. A breeze kisses Nico’s cheek and she hooks an arm around Nico. The aurae runs a hand smoothly down his leather jacket. “What I wouldn’t give to undress you.”

 

“That _hair_!” squeals another aurae. Nico’s bangs flutter with a gentle gust—and he assumes the other wind spirit is playing with his thick locks.

 

He shifts uncomfortably between his feet, unsure how to react to the attention. Not many people have ever called him _handsome_ in his lifetime. “Ahem—ladies.”

 

“Yes?” All three aurae mewl.

 

They’re transparent. Nico has a hard time seeing them, but they spin around him like a tiny tornado. He feels like one of those supermodels with a giant fan blasting at them. “I like men.”  

 

The wind stops immediately. He wonders if saying, _I’m Hades’ son_ would’ve been worse.

 

Well, this is awkward.

 

Nico takes a better look at the aurae closest to him. She wears a beautifully designed Greek dress that cinched at the waist. The skirt billows as she moves, reminding Nico of old picture movies he’d seen of couples taking long walks on the beach. He quickly scans her nametag.

 

“Cassiopeia, is it?” he asks.

 

“You can call me Cassie.” She giggles happily, which just sounds like a sweet whistle in Nico’s ears.

 

“Cassie, then.” Nico looks at all three workers and scans the boutique. Some nymphs and magical beings rummage through the clothes enthusiastically without a care in the world. “You have a beautiful dress. It—ah, makes you shimmer. Like Iris.”

 

Cassie titters. “You’re so _kind_! Thank you!”

 

“I just _have_ to meet the designers.” Nico studies Cassie’s reaction carefully. “Are they in?”

 

Her smile disappears, shoulders rising to her ears nervously. She looks between her aurae co-workers. “Oh, I don’t know…they’re not big… _mortal_ people.”

 

“But I’m such a huge fan,” Nico responds smoothly. He pretends to inspect all three aurae’s outfits. “I simply _must._ And I come as the ambassador to Lord Hades. I would love to commission the Fates to make him a new suit before the big meeting.”

 

Note to self: find out if there really is another _big meeting_ in the foreseeable future.

 

“Lord Hades…as a new client,” says the aure dressed in the crop top. Her name tag reads ‘Thalassa.’ She clasps her hands together and nods. “ _Yes_! I don’t see any harm in that!”

 

“But Lassie!” The third aurae, Tassia, protests. She shakes her head furiously. “You know that they don’t—”

 

In that moment, Nico channels his inner Percy Jackson. Maybe Valdez. “Ladies, just picture it.” He waves a hand in front of him, pretending to stare off in the distance. “The next grand meeting of the gods, live on Hephaestus TV. And what does Lord Hades wear? A Three Fates original.”

 

They look at each other uneasily.

 

“Gods and Titans and Giants from all nine realms will be crowding the boutique, asking for their own gown or suit. And who will the Fates thank?” Nico gestures to them, a smile on his face. “Tassie, Lassie, and Cassie.”

 

“Well…okay!” Cassie claps her hands together. “Let’s go!”

 

Suddenly Nico’s being pushed behind the counter by a giggling gaggle of gales.

 

(He groans to himself. If only he could conjure that much charm to speak to a _guy_.)

 

The back room looks like a different building altogether. Lights are dim at best, despite the sunny New York day. Walls are filled with cracks from years without maintenance.

 

The floorboards creak under Nico’s light steps, and a musty scent makes his nose wrinkle. The _odd_ part is how the storefront and back of house blend into together—Nico can actually see the upbeat hipster-inspired store transform into the rickety cabin-like room in the back.

 

 _What is new will always turn old_ , Nico thinks.

 

Three sewing machines sit in the corner, joined by a delicate looking love seat that sleeps against the wall. In the middle of the room is a frail old woman sitting in a wooden stool. She works away at a Greek dress on the mannequin in front of her, hands nimble and fast.

 

Nico feels like an intruder for watching. He clears his throat.

 

“Madame Clothos!” Cassie says. “We have a new client!”

 

Clothos’s hands stop abruptly. She looks up from her work, head turning slowly. Her gaze pierces straight into Nico.

 

Silence follows.

 

“Well, uh,” Cassie says nervously, “I’ll leave you two alone!”

 

She quickly scurries out of the room.

 

Clothos goes back to her work immediately, completely ignoring the demigod.

 

“What a beautiful dress,” Nico compliments. He walks the length of the room to inspect the gown from all sides and shivers. The closer he gets to the dress, the harder his heart pounds. “Are you running the store by yourself today, Madame Clothos?”

 

“We have three branches, dear boy,” Clothos murmurs. Her voice is soft, but still makes Nico nervous. “I am here. Lachesis is east. Atropos west. No more than that. We want to be noticed, but we won’t sell out. We’re not stupid.”

 

“Clothes made by the Fates in the mortal plane?” Nico does his best to hide his grimace. He fails. Every time Clothos looks at him, he feels like someone is in his head, _controlling_ his thoughts. Nico didn’t like people in his head. “How…innovative.”

 

She gives him a wrinkly, mysterious smile. “Mortals are perfect, Nico di Angelo. They wear their hearts on their sleeves.” 

 

Shiver. Something told Nico that Clothos didn’t mean that phrase in the way it was normally used. He hopes that phrase has _never_ been used to describe him.

 

“You’re here to ask about the Son of Beryl Grace,” Clothos says. “No.”

 

“But I didn’t—”

 

“Do not lie to me, sonny.” Clothos harrumphs and continues with her work, hands working swiftly with the dress. “Your tapestry has led you here. Think of who created that tapestry.”

 

Right. Was there any way to charm the Fates when they _guided_ you to their lair?

 

“No,” Clothos says blithely.

 

Well then. Nico lets go of a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding. An idea comes to mind. “May I see his tapestry?”

 

“No,” she repeats.

 

“But—”

 

“No god, nor titan, nor my demigod cheats my sisters or my decision,” Clothos replies sagely. “Jupiter has inspired our work immensely for the Son of Beryl Grace.”

 

The word _inspired_ makes Nico feel worse off. He contemplates his options. “Is it possible to see my own?”

 

His inquiry is enough to stop Clothos from her work, if for a moment. She stares at him directly in the eye.

 

“I don’t care to see how I die—” Though he hopes it isn’t sooner than later. “—but you’ve sent me on a journey. I’m happy now.”

 

Clothos studies his face, as if trying to find the hidden meaning behind his words.

 

“Would you let a man admire the work you’ve done for him?” Nico asks. “And in exchange, I will—ahem—have my father pay nothing but the highest price for a _Clothos_ original.”

 

She stares at him with large beady eyes. Closes them slowly. A smile forms across her face. “Very well.”

 

With a soft hiss, an entrance to another room appears behind Nico.

 

“I always appreciate an admirer of my work,” she whispers. “And Nico di Angelo?”

 

 “Yes, Madame Clothos?” Nico decides he doesn’t like the way she says his full name so familiarly.

 

“Perhaps your words have inspired me as well.” Her eyes glimmer ominously, piercing straight through him.

 

Nico shudders and decides best to ignore her. He makes his way into the room.

 

One dim lightbulb struggles to shine in the darkness. Looms stand in tight-knit rows, going on aisle-after-aisle for what feels like miles. Nico looks for the walls—but realizes the looms are actually never-ending. He sees one loom assemble itself and work on the first line of a new tapestry.

 

 _“You’re dawdling_ ,” Clothos’s voice calls out over an invisible speaker.

 

As fate would have it ( _ugh_ ), he stops in front of the nearest loom. On the side of the loom, etched in gold letters, is his name: _Nico di Angelo._

 

It’s the tallest in Nico’s close proximity, standing at probably 68” x 80”. The tapestry has a stunning array of colors. At the top of the loom, Nico sees the warmest hues, reminding him of the breathtaking sunrise in Venice. It tapers off into a beautiful lagoon blue, like the canals Nico could see outside his window as a small boy.

 

He inspects it closely, noticing a single thread of white that follows every row from the beginning of his loom. He watches as his tapestry shifts from a lagoon blue to neon rainbows and almost _glow_ —the seventy years that Bianca and he spent in the Lotus Casino that takes up at least two feet of Nico’s tapestry—and follows the white thread until it stops abruptly.

 

Beneath the Lotus Casino, the tapestry is black. Frayed. Damaged, and full of holes like someone wanted to destroy the cloth at this very point in Nico’s life, but simply ruined it instead. He notices a few lines of the white thread stitched between the tattered fabric, like someone haphazardly tried to fix it. It glows ethereally.

 

He frowns, scrutinizing it. The moment Nico reaches out, he feels something link to him. A lone thread at the bottom of the loom glues to his chest.

 

He’s literally writing fate as he stands there.

 

Nico focuses on the white thread, grazing his finger against the fabric.

 

The vision comes to him like the _FWIP_ of an arrow.

 

_“You must listen to me. Holding a grudge is da—”_

 

 _Bianca._ Nico whips his hand away immediately. Tears swell in his eyes and his throat hurts.

 

The thread in his tapestry was Bianca’s, intertwined with his own fate.

 

Nico searches the loom hastily, trying to find every instance that Bianca’s fate is wound with his—but all he sees is her white thread from his birth, through the casino, and to age ten at Camp Halfblood, when he lost her forever.

 

The ethereal thread in the worst part of Nico’s tapestry—the way it was forcefully sewn in there was because _he_ was trying to summon her. His fingers tremble.

 

When he looks at the full length of the white thread—to the very last interaction he ever had with his sister when she was alive alive—he notices the thread is coming off of the loom.

 

Studying the white thread, Nico watches as it strays away from his own tapestry, like the silk of a spider web, to another loom adjacent to his.

 

The gold plaque next to the new loom reads _Bianca di Angelo._ The other loom is half the size of Nico’s—having been cut short too early. Too young.

 

His heart folds. Nico looks around frantically. Maybe—maybe, if he followed the end of Bianca’s thread, he could find her new life—

 

No.

 

“I’m here for Jason,” he murmurs to himself.

 

He’s here for _Jason._  

 

Bianca had to wait.

 

His fingers follow the careful line of the dark fabric, forcefully ignoring any memento from Bianca. Nico sees the thread of his darkest days intertwine with other colors: sea green ( _Percy_ , he thinks), grey ( _Annabeth_ ), gold ( ** _Hazel_** ), and stops.

 

His hand brushes against a dainty blue thread, heart skipping a beat.

 

 _“What did you say your rank was?_ ” the voice echoes in his head for the first time in years, much like Bianca’s.

 

 _“I’m an Ambassador of Pluto. I’m here for Hazel. My sister._ ”

 

The memory of Nico’s first day at Camp Jupiter filled his mind.

 

Closing his eyes, Nico sees himself at thirteen-years-old, trying hard to stand tall. He remembers his heart pounding in his chest and the protective scowl he mustered in attempt to scream, _‘Do. Not. Test. Me.’_ Nothing mattered more than protecting his new sister.

 

And Jason? The hard, electrifying stare of fifteen-year-old Jason Grace—slayer of Titan Krios, Praetor to the Twelfth Legion, leader of the Fifth Cohort—met Nico’s rough gaze. A stoic, menacing frown had rested upon those lips. Nico used to wonder what fight the great Golden Boy had gotten into for that scar.

 

(A stapler was fitting.)

 

Praetor Jason’s face had softened in a way Nico yearned Percy’s would. Sympathy. Pity. _“I understand. She’ll be safe here._ ”

 

Nico wasn’t used to sympathy back then. Not after years of being scorned and dubbed an outcast. When his father sought his love and forgiveness, Hades presented him with a chauffeur as a peace offering. Nico certainly used that as a prime example of _Children of Hades Were Bad At Feelings._

 

 _“You would be too.”_ Fifteen-year-old Jason’s voice whispers in his ears.

 

His heart had warned him that day. _Don’t go down that road again._ Even if Praetor Jason was easy on the eyes.

 

The blue thread appears on and off in the lines, overshadowed by Nico’s devotion to Hazel. Jason’s fate intertwined with his only a few times during the first months of their relationship—before vanishing.

 

At some point, Jason reappears in his life again.

 

_“My name is Jason. Jason Grace.” The amnesiac demigod extended a hand to Nico—who had to do everything to keep his jaw from dropping to the ground. A warm smile spread on Jason’s face—but every move was calculated._

_Nico couldn’t help but stare. Praetor Jason Grace was in Camp Halfblood, wearing the orange shirt of the Greek demigods. **Percy’s** color. Jason’s gesture and gaze was one-hundred percent calculated—from the way he extended his hand to the observant look he gave Nico. _

_But the way Jason looked at him confirmed Nico’s thoughts—Grace had **no idea** who he was. _

_(And Nico would know—every third sentence out of Praetor Jason’s mouth when Nico visited Camp Jupiter was, “Would you care to stay as well, Ambassador of Pluto?”)_

_The Legion was falling apart in San Francisco without Jason—with Reyna desperately trying to keep Octavian from becoming her new partner. Camp Halfblood was in **shambles.** Nico was exhausted from **months** of scouring the country for Percy. Every body of water, every candy store that sold something blue—and here was one of those MIA demigods. _

 

_Jealousy swelled in the pit of Nico’s stomach. There was a newfound lightness to Jason’s voice. He fit in **perfectly** here. _

_The radio silence from Nico’s end apparently made Jason nervous. He awkwardly put his hand to the back of his neck, never once breaking gaze with Nico. “I can tell you’re a powerful demigod. I thought you were…you know, Percy. But, ah, the…skull on your shirt…”_

_Nico was so appalled and angry and envious that he couldn’t speak. His mind was going a mile a minute. If Jason was here—_

_“Do I know you?” Jason asks inquisitively. He scrutinizes Nico. “Do you…know me?”_

**_—Percy_ ** _, his heart sang miserably, had to be in San Francisco._

_“No,” Nico spat harshly._

_He shadowtraveled to Camp Jupiter immediately._

Present day Nico cringes at the memory. He keeps searching his loom, Jason’s blue fate popping up in small bouts.

 

 _“Look, Nico—”_ _Jason’s voice was as soft and gentle as the first day at camp. “—I’m here if you want to talk about, you know, what happened in Croatia. I get how difficult—”_

 

_“You don’t get anything.” The hate and misery and shame that Nico had felt for **years** bubbled in a lump at Nico’s throat. His heart shook with fear and he couldn’t bring himself to look at Jason’s eyes. _

_He hated it. He hated Jason._

_“Nobody’s going to judge you.”_

_He hated that he could **feel** Jason looking at him with the same sympathy and pity as the first day they met. Everything felt wrong and raw and disgusting—and Nico never felt more exposed. He felt like a porcupine who’d spent all its life driving people away suddenly stripped of its quills. There was nothing to protect him. _

Present day Nico pulls away for a brief moment. He swallows the bitter taste of the past as it lingers at the back of his throat.

 

“I don’t belong anywhere,” he recalls himself saying.

 

 _“You want to trust somebody? Maybe take a risk that I’m really your friend and I’ll accept you._ ” Nico doesn’t have to touch the loom to remember Jason’s words.

 

During the war, he would replay those words in his mind and laugh.

 

_Nico drank from the chalice, then offered it to Jason. “You asked me about trust, and taking a risk? Well, here you go, son of Jupiter. How much do you trust me?”_

 

He still remembers Jason’s unwavering gaze as the other demigod took the chalice, brushing warm fingers against Nico’s own.

 

_“I’m staying.”_

_“What?”_ Through the loom, Present day Nico can replay Jason’s reaction in his mind as he wants. The way Jason’s eyebrows rose together, how his sky blue orbs widened with shock beneath those imperial gold glasses. As younger Nico explained his reasoning to remain in Camp Halfblood, present day Nico can see Jason shaking with excitement, like a child being told “Yes” to getting a puppy. _“That’s—that’s fantastic! Dude!”_

Nico’s heart had skipped a beat.

_“Right. No touching. Sorry.”_

He ignored it back then. _“I suppose we can make an exception.”_

Continuing further, Nico sees Jason delicately weaving in and out of the tapestry, playing a gentle dance around Nico’s life. He sees Will’s thread, wound tightly around his fate—and bits of Jason in between. The memories flood Nico’s mind like a movie.

 

 _“He doesn’t like me_ , _” Nico grumbles miserably._

_“What?” Jason sounds genuinely shocked. “Nico, he’s head-over-heels for you! Are you serious?”_

_“Are **you**?” Nico asked in disbelief._

_“Yes,” his friend says with emphasis. He smiles in Nico’s direction and hesitates before nudging Nico in the shoulder. Jason’s eyes glitter.  “He’s head over heels for you. Trust me: I would know.”_

 

And then another—

 

_“I think I love him,” Nico murmured quietly. So quietly that not even a mouse could hear him. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jason pause from what he was doing—looking at blueprints for new temples._

_Jason looked at him for a full minute—not smiling, but not frowning. Shocked, maybe. Nico pretended to be busy shuffling through his old Mythomagic cards, face red to the ears._

_“Oh yeah?” Jason asked. He immediately went back to his work at the foot of Nico’s bed. “You think or you know?”_

_“What’s the difference?” Nico snapped, flustered. He backtracked in his mind, realizing how angry he sounded. “How did you know with Piper? Before you two broke up?”_

_Busy scanning blueprints, Jason didn’t offer his gaze again. Instead, he pushed his glasses above the bridge of his nose. “I never thought about it. We were too busy fighting a war. By the time it ended, I just…knew.”_

_Unfortunately, Nico didn’t have that same experience. Will didn’t start flirting with him until towards the end of the war—and it took a full seven months for Will to ask him out. Something about Nico needing to heal ‘emotionally and physically.’ “You think it’s useless for me to mull over it then.”_

_“I didn’t say you **couldn’t**_ ,” _Jason grumbled. “You can if you want. If you think about it some more, maybe you’ll know if you love him.’_

_Nico noticed the omitted, ‘Or not,’ in Jason’s voice. Jason seemed uncomfortable at talking about the idea. Or maybe he was genuinely concerned about his own blueprints for the new temples and cabins._

_“What’s wrong?” Nico asked._

_Jason looked up one more time, taken aback._

_“You seem…” Nico couldn’t even think of how to describe it. Unhappy? Unsettled? “On guard.”_

_Jason’s shoulders heaved in response. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head in defeat. “The temple is built for Kymopoleia. The cabin, too. Action figures along the way. And then there are blueprints for other gods. Like Melinoe, the goddess of nightmares and madness.”_

_He didn’t speak ill of said goddess for obvious reasons, but his face said it all. Minor gods had niche dominions like that._

_“But…?” Nico asked._

_“It’s a process for every god. Every time I feel like I have a complete list, another one pops up. And then building these temples without consulting them…” Jason’s voice trailed off. He scratched his head and sighed. “It doesn’t feel like my attempt is genuine.”_

_“What does that mean?” Nico sat high in his bed. He had a feeling he already knew the answer, but his chest was crying in protest._

_Blue orbs look back up to Nico, like they wanted to say, ‘I don’t want to’ before Jason even explained himself. “I think I have to go find these gods. And then make sure Jupiter honors their name. To make it genuine.”_

 

Present-day Nico pulls his hand away. He recalls the memory on his own—Jason had been seventeen at the time, Nico fifteen himself. After a perilous journey on the Argo II, it made sense that Jason didn’t want to step foot on a boat or go on another voyage for a long, long time. But Jason wanted to earn the title of Pontifex Maximus and prove his worth.

 

Personally, Nico had thought that slaying Krios, uniting both Greek and Roman Camps, and stopping Gaea from rising were all heroic feats without the need to personally meet with gods. But he knew that the wrath of a deity—even a minor one—could wreak great havoc on your life.

 

He remembers debating on going with Jason—but he was on the brim of spilling his heart out to his then-boyfriend ( _ugh_ ) and Jason insisted he **stayed** in one place. Nico not dipping in and out and _hiding_ was more desirable to Jason than them traveling together. Jason wanted Nico to be happy.

 

And he was, for sure.

 

Why didn’t he remember all of this before today?

 

Nico searches his own mind to recall the last few years he had with a flaky Jason Grace, but it felt as though a force field was preventing him. Why couldn’t he recall Jason’s adventures?

 

From that point, Jason’s fate weaves in and out of Nico’s life once again, in small dashes in different rows. Weeks passing without seeing one another. Months.

 

Years.

 

He found the last meeting he had with Jason Grace, and curled his fingers against it.

 

_Nineteen-year-old Jason Grace looked handsome in his robes. He stood like a true prince to Roman royalty outside of the throne room, shoulders wide with a gold sash around his shoulders. His jawline was sharp, demeanor unreadable beneath his imperial gold glasses. An armful of papers rested under his arm._

_“Ahem,” Nico announced his presence._

_Instantly, Jason snapped to attention. His first instinct was to grab his gladius—but instead, his gaze fell to Nico. Nico had a feeling that in the last few months, Jason probably ran into a lot of trouble on his journeys. The bags under his eyes were obvious up close. The Son of Jupiter looked exhausted beyond belief, ready to pass out at any given moment._

_But the moment Jason lay eyes on Nico, every bit of exhaustion faded with a smile. Jason threw his arms around the other demigod, relief apparent in his voice. “Nico!”_

_Jason’s body was heavy against Nico’s. His grip was almost bone-crushing, encompassing Nico’s small frame many times over. His warm cheek rested against the other demigod’s, and Nico could hear Jason’s heartbeat accelerate against his chest._

_It felt…nice._

_“I haven’t seen you in ages.” Jason breathed into his neck. He clung onto Nico like they hadn’t seen each other in years. He pushed away from Nico, looking less like a Roman Senator and more like himself._

_“You’ve been busy,” Nico noted. He gestured to the papers in Jason’s arm._

_The excitement in Jason’s demeanor wore off. His shoulders sagged softly and his smile was small. “I’ve been traveling. Meeting with gods. Going between the camps. Begging for meetings with Jupiter to get his blessing.”_

_Nico noticed that Jason didn’t refer to the king of the Gods as “my dad.” The wariness was clear on Jason’s face, like saying Jupiter’s name took all of the energy out of him. Nico didn’t like the edge in Jason’s voice._

_Getting the sole attention of **a** god, let alone the King of the Gods, was almost impossible. Nico’d stepped upon Mount Olympus a handful of times over the years—but almost always with purpose or with his father by his side. It took Jason sixteen years of hardships and heroic deeds for Jupiter to meet him even once—and after that, Jason’s tone implied he hadn’t had much luck. _

_“You came back just in time. The Senate has been wondering where you were,” Nico explained. “The inauguration for Pontifex Maximus is tomorrow.”_

_It would have been sooner if Jason hadn’t been busy scouring the world seeking peace treaties with Minor Gods by offering to build temples and cabins and action figures. Nico wondered if that was how his own friends felt when he shadowtraveled without explanation. Jason always seemed too busy being happy in Nico’s presence to be annoyed._

_The light in Jason’s eyes disappeared. His smile was tight, as though it was a struggle._

_“What’s wrong?” Nico asked carefully. He studied the other demigod. Jason had a hard time controlling the anger in his body language._

_“There are just so many gods that are… **angry.** At being ignored by their parent.” Jason didn’t beat around the bushes, but he didn’t elaborate. Something about Jason’s gaze held a darkness that Nico didn’t like. He flipped through his paperwork carefully and hung his head mournfully. “I just know this meeting won’t go well.” _

_Without another word, he stepped into the room. Although confused, Nico followed in suit._

_And Jason was right. The meeting didn’t go well._

_Jason’s papers were filled with the names of gods that he met with, what their domain was, and where they currently rested. He listed their demands and pleas to Jupiter. From the Gods’ side, there was an occasional “Okay,” “Sure,” and “Who?”_

_Juno seemed particularly annoyed and disgusted with each name—which put Jupiter on even worse edge._

_Mars was busy polishing knives, Aphrodite was reapplying makeup in her compact. Nico’s own father, Pluto, seemed annoyed to be whisked away from his domain, occasionally staring at a god-sized iPhone and texting Thanatos back._

_All the while, Jason kept calm. He kept his gaze on his papers—occasionally looking up to gauge the reactions of the gods, but specifically Jupiter’s._

_The gods not listening was not the worst part. It was when Jason called them out for it._

_“Father,” Jason said slowly when he finished his findings on the current page. His gaze was cautious. “These gods and goddesses want to be acknowledged. They’re afraid of being forgotten like Pan.”_

_The tone of Jason’s voice wasn’t welcomed by the God of Thunder. Jupiter sat tall in his throne, his eyes cold and lips contorted into a terrifying scowl. “I’m quite a busy god, boy. I can’t simply take time out of my day to solve the problems of these other gods.”_

_“You can’t take the time out of your day?” Jason repeated wearily, like he wanted to laugh._

_“Are you questioning me?” Jupiter asked, though he wasn’t searching for an answer. The air suddenly became ionic, lightning sparking at the tips of Jupiter’s fingers as he clutched his throne. True anger._

_From where Nico was sitting, his heart leapt out of his chest. He looked to his friend—and there it was: the ferocity in Jason’s face that he obviously inherited from the King of the Gods. His gaze was cold, lips pressed in a frustrated scowl._

_“Jason,” Nico whispered to himself. “Don’t.”_

_Don’t fight the King of the Gods, he pleaded in his head. You won’t win._

_“Of course not, Father. I was just thinking—a mere mortal like myself went on a journey to seek out these gods. Allbeit—it took me months, if not years to find them. A godly being like yourself is so incredible that he could visit everyone in half the time,” Jason responded through his teeth. He looked frustrated, but unsurprised._

_It was then that Nico realized this was a circular argument. Jason was gone months at a time trying to make amends as the pre-Pontifex Maximus for all of these gods. He started the process of building temples and was trying to get Jupiter to acknowledge his deeds, for the sake of these godly beings._

_How many times had Jason insisted on meeting with Jupiter, only to stand there in the middle of the throne room, with King Jupiter staring at Jason as though his own son wasn’t worth his time?_

_“I don’t **need** to,” Jupiter sneered. He rubbed his temples and sighed. The room was still filled with electricity. “Limos: the god of starvation! Ersa, the goddess of dew! They have their domains. Their own realms of control. This does not need to be done.” _

_Jason stared at Jupiter. “Every name that I’ve read today has been the name of one of your children.”_

_Silence. Not even the crackle of electricity could be heard. Venus looked away from her compact. Mercury looked up from his smartphone._

_Jupiter looked ready to flatten Jason with his hand._

_“There are **countless** names on these lists, Dad,” Jason continued. His voice was calm, but the rage was apparent in his face. He was trying desperately to run out of fumes before he could explode. “Many gods, that could easily be swayed—_ against _you. Ignoring them like this would be—be—”_

_“Unwise?” Jupiter finished for him. Electricity crackled again, causing Nico to flinch. “You dare come to my home, utter the names of the children I already know with such arrogance, **mock** me—and call me unwise?” _

_“No, I—” Jason was startled, the papers suddenly shaking in his hands. His brow furrowed together and he contemplated his words. “Yes. There could be another war, Father. Raised against everyone in this court **.** Against **you.** ” _

_The gods looked around the room, at a loss for words. But Jupiter’s attention was glued to his son._

_“Are you threatening me?” Jupiter’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Do you take me for an unwise, mortal fool, and threaten to raise a sword against your own father?”_

_Nico’s throat dried. He looked to his friend, frightened. Jason’s demeanor and stance was a culmination of both fear and defiance. Nico stood at the edge of his seat, his hand grasping for his sword—_

_Hades cleared his throat, gaining the attention of everyone but his brother and the demigod son of Jupiter. “I see this matter no longer concerns me. Or any of us, in fact. I’ll be returning to the Underworld now. Come, Nico.”_

_“No, I—” Nico started, but Hades flashed him a look that clearly said, ‘Know your place.’_

_“HOW DARE YOU—!”_

_Hades shadowtraveled them both away._

“Jason!” Nico shouts aloud. He finches as his voice reverberates off the walls and searches around.

There was no trace of Jason after that. A good four inches of Nico’s life continues on the loom, and ends with the string still attached to Nico’s essence.

 

Nico frowns, inspecting the memory one more time. That couldn’t be right—Nico remembers Jason getting into an argument with Jupiter and Hades sweeping him away.

 

But—he did nothing? He didn’t seek Jason after that incident?

 

He inspects the loom one more time—all until Jason disappeared from his life forever. There was _nothing._

_Why_ was there _nothing_?

 

His loom continued on without any other streak of Jason. Four years had passed since that incident. Jason had to be—twenty-two, twenty-three now?

 

So why was it that Nico hadn’t thought of Jason since that incident?

 

“What _happened_?” Nico demands to no one around him. He can feel the anger boiling in his veins, but has no outlet.

 

Digging a finger nail against the streaks of blue, Nico sees what he did with Bianca’s fate: Jason’s thread tapering off, leading to another loom. He walks over it and sure enough, finding Jason’s name on the plaque.

 

Jason’s loom is shorter than Nico’s. Not being stuck in a casino for seventy years would do that. Despite the fact that on Nico’s loom, the blue thread represented the son of Jupiter, Jason’s tapestry is filled with as many colors as Nico’s own. Hues of that blue like the sky and white, like the clouds. An undertone of purple shows Jason’s time in the legion. Undertones of orange flow below that.

 

Nico can’t quite decipher the colors as well as he did with his own tapestry. Maybe because it wasn’t _his_ life. He can’t pinpoint his place in Jason’s life as easily as his own.

 

When he brushes his hand against the cloth, he hears wolves howling.

The end of the cloth intrigues Nico the most. A good height of Jason’s cloth is a muddled grey color, reminding Nico of a foggy day. He reaches the edge of Jason’s cloth—the present—and sees another strand taper off. In present day, Jason’s fate was intertwined with someone else’s.

 

Behind Jason’s loom is another—one with a cloth that was only a few inches tall.

 

A frown encapsulates Nico’s lips. Why was Jason’s fate intertwined with—?

 

 _“That’s quite enough_ ,” Clothos’s voice calls out.

 

In the moment it takes Nico to blink, the room fades away, moving away from him. He reappears in the rickety old room where Clothos sits next to a now-completed gown and is starting on a new one.

 

She doesn’t look up from her work. “I said you could _admire_ your tapestry, boy. Not eavesdrop on others.”

 

“I didn’t—I couldn’t look at his fate anyway,” Nico says. His eyebrows knit together and his hands curl into fists. “Why did I stop seeing Jason?”

 

Clothos doesn’t answer.

 

“Why isn’t he in my life after that day? Why hasn’t he been in my life for the last four years?” It gets worse as Nico keeps thinking about it, his mind running a mile a minute. This wasn’t just _him._ Thalia, Reyna, Percy—everyone else came to the realization that they hadn’t seen Jason in all those years either. But _why_?

 

“I can’t answer that,” Clothos says.

 

“But you _made_ it that way!” Nico cries back. His heart wants to leap out of his chest. He wants to puke.

 

How could he forget Jason Grace?

 

In that moment, Clothos stops her work. She looks up to Nico with her wrinkly face, lips set in a straight line. “I did not _make_ his fate that way, dear boy. A new stitch appeared and I simply followed the seam.”

 

In other words: Something happened and Clothos—the Three Fates—adapted around it.

 

“What happened that day? Please,” Nico begs. He hasn’t felt this distraught in _years._  

 

“You saw what happened _that_ day,” Clothos says calmly. “And _your_ day continued after you left Olympus, and continued the day after that, and the day after that.”

 

“Where is he?”

 

Clothos puts down her pins. She stares at Nico directly in the eye, her gaze sharp. “I do not offer _cheat codes_ , Nico di Angelo. If you seek information about every mortal being in the universe, then you shall seek it _on your own._ ”

 

Nico decides pointing out the hole in Clothos’s argument would be a poor choice.

 

“Besides,” Clothos concludes. “You already know the answer to at least one of those questions.”

 

Yes. Yes he did, actually. His hands tremble. “And the loom next to Jason’s?”

 

She smiles grimly. “Perhaps you’ll find out once you see him.”

 

*

 

If he thought hard about it, Nico didn’t have to travel to the west coast to get hints about Jason’s whereabouts. His dream, although vague in presentation, gave him all the leads he needed.

 

He wants to smack himself, thinking about how close he was to Jason this morning when he was sipping on a latte and having a conversation with Reyna in a New Roman coffee shop.

 

When Nico shadowtravels into the Jack London State Historic Park, night has already fallen. His time at the Three Fates Boutique had caused him to miss most of the afternoon. After that, he’d stocked up on supplies—his sword at his side and a knife tucked away in his pocket. Ambrosia. A McDonald’s meal.

 

The park is empty. Nico sees hills full of trees beyond the dirt pathway at his feet. He scans further, until what he’s looking for finally meets his presence.

 

Nico pours the 32oz of coke on a mound of dirt. A moment later, he hears the rattling of bones. A spirit rises from the mound, and Nico offers it the quarter pounder and French fries in his possession.

 

(Seeing a spirit scarf down fast food is never a pleasant sight. Nico tries to hide his disgust.)

 

“I’m looking for someone. A couple of inches taller than me. Blond. He has gla—” Nico halts for a moment. He’s not really sure what Jason looks like these days—if he’s still wearing those glasses gifted to him from Asclepius. His heart aches at that fact. “He has a scar on his lip.”

 

The ghost nods enthusiastically and points left.

 

Nico hesitates before asking, “Was he with someone?”

 

Again, the ghost nods.

 

“Okay.” He’s about to dismiss the ghost when she waves her hands around, whispering something in Nico’s ears. “Someone is following them. A group of them.”

 

Nodnodnod.

 

His brow furrows together. Without a doubt, the figures from his dreams were after Jason and whoever was with him. Nico puts the spirit to rest with a quiet thank you and begin his trek to the Wolf House.

 

Being out in the open makes his skin crawl. After years of fighting demons and monsters alike, Nico is hyper aware of his surroundings. He knows not to let his guard down if a monster appears—almost expects it. But he also knows that having everything go according to plan has never been possible.

 

He can still recall feeling terrified in his dreams. His father’s blood was supposed to make it _easier_ for him to navigate the darkness in his dreams. But the monsters—whoever they were—scared him so badly that he couldn’t move. He felt like a small, frightened child.

 

Nico stops in his tracks, putting the pieces together. Maybe he was.

 

_BOOM!_

 

The crackle of thunder snaps Nico into attention. He looks up to the sky only to see dark clouds looming above. The ionic air makes the hairs on his arms stand upright. Rain falls in heavy beads, pummeling Nico in the face.

 

On a normal day, Nico would have berated himself for forgetting to bring an umbrella.

 

“Jason!” On a day like this, after finding out his best friend has been missing for the last four years (and it might have been _his_ fault for not searching), Nico went running.

 

_CRACKLE_

He starts running faster—through trees, over hills, off the beaten path. The rain falls harder the closer that he gets.

 

When he finds the source, he stops dead in his tracks.

 

The three voices that he heard were only a sample of reality. At the bottom of a hill, a pack of wolves surrounded two figures. The rain made it hard to see, but from what Nico could tell, the taller figure held an imperial gold sword in his hand, while the smaller figure barely came up to the former’s knee.

 

Jason. It had to be Jason.

 

Another bolt of lightning comes out of the sky, striking the wolf nearest to them. It lets out a harsh whimper and falls to the ground.

 

Something told Nico that this wasn’t Lupa’s pack.

 

He could hear sniggering come from one of the wolves. Upon closer inspection, Nico could see the long limbs of humans, covered in the hides of a beast. They weren’t wolves—they were _lycanthropes._

“We can continue this song and dance as long as you want, Son of Jupiter,” snarled one of the werewolves. “You clearly came ill-prepared.”

 

“Juno isn’t here to save you this time,” growls another lycanthrope—the pack leader. “I can tear you apart limb-from-limb.”

 

The child with Jason is shaking, clinging to the demigod’s leg for protection. In one hand, Jason wields a sword. The end of his shirt is tattered, a good piece of it ripped apart to cover his left arm.

 

Nico’s heart throbs in his chest. His jaw is tight, body frozen. Fear rings in his ears. For the first time in years, he doesn’t know what to do.

 

A lycanthrope lunges at Jason, biting at his sword-wielding wrist. Jason howls in pain. One moment, he’s trying to fend the lycanthrope off and the next, Jason is on the ground with two more werewolves pinning him down. The child with Jason screams, and the rain pummels down harder.

 

Instantly, Nico has his sword in hand. He leaps into action, swiping at two lycanthropes closest to him. They both screech in pain and fall to the ground.

 

His feat earns the attention of others in the pack, and another stands on its hind legs and swipes out at him. Nico dodges out of the way and kicks it in the chest. From the corner of his eye, he sees Jason retrieve his footing, fending off two more lycanthropes around them.

 

Nico whips out the silver knife from his pack pocket and immediately swipes at a lycanthrope behind him. It howls in pain and immediately evaporates into dust.

 

“Jay!” shouts the child.

 

Nico feels good about the adrenaline pumping in his veins until he sees Jason collapsing to the ground, clutching his head. Three more lycanthropes take notice and target him—and Nico doesn’t have enough time to run over and help.

 

“Jason!” Nico shouts. “Fly!”

 

Jason curls into a tighter ball. Nico watches as the kid tries to— _shoot lightning_?—at the werewolves, but also seems too frightened to move.

 

Waving a hand, Nico summons an undead soldier. He whips out the silver knife from his back pocket and tosses it to his new partner, making sure to shout, “Defeat the lycanthropes!”

 

They make it through the pack, cutting down them down one-by-one until they’re left with one: King Lycaon himself. Lycaon looms over Jason and the child, his claws sharp.

 

“I _WILL_ KILL THE SON OF JUPITER!” he shouts viciously.

 

“Not likely.” Nico retrieves his silver knife and drives it through Lycaon’s back. Lycaon howls in pain and evaporates into dusk. He looks over to his undead soldier, thanks it, and allows it to dissipate away.

 

Then, Nico turns his attention back to his friend. The little child—a boy—has his hand over Jason’s back, whimpering.

 

Nico’s own heart drops in his chest. He kneels to his feet, offering a hand to his fallen friend. “Jason—”

 

And immediately gets slashed by Jason’s gladius.

 

“ _Agh_!” Nico falls back in pain, clutching his wounded arm.

 

Jason wobbles to his feet. He looks at Nico through hazy eyes, pointing his sword directly at Nico’s chest. “How the hell do you know my name?”

 

“What?” Nico’s at a loss for words. At this distance, he gets a better look at the demigod. Jason…doesn’t look well.

 

Jason’s arms are covered in bite marks and gashes from claws. His shirt is mottled with blood, both fresh and old, and his heartbeat is faint. He remains in his hunch, hands clutching his head in pain. His frame is thin, almost skeletal. Dark rims rest under Jason’s eyes, akin to a tired raccoon. He looks like he hasn’t slept, eaten, or shaved in months. His gaze keeps flickering between Nico and Nico’s sword, unfocused, and a crooked scowl rests on his face.

 

But it’s definitely Jason. The scar on his lip proves it.

 

Nico looks down to the boy, who clings to Jason’s leg as though his life depended on it. Two tiny hands curl into fists against Jason’s wet jeans, and sky blue eyes look up to Nico, terrified. Dirty red hair shoots in different directions, wet from both mud and rain.

 

Another thought whispers in Nico’s mind, and it’s not a happy one.

 

Before he has a chance to process his thoughts, Jason swipes at him again. Nico dodges just in time. “Jason! It’s _me!_ Nico!”

 

There’s a split moment—half a heartbeat—where Jason listens. He falters for only a moment, but the doubt fades almost immediately. Jason clutches his sword tightly. “I don’t know a Nico.”

 

The words hit Nico like a punch to the gut. Then—Jason actually tries to punch him in the gut. Nico resists all instinct to wield his sword.

 

“Get behind me, Sion,” Jason mutters hoarsely. He swings at Nico again—moves erratic. Again, and again—

 

“It’s _me_! Nico di Angelo! Your—your best friend!” Nico grunts. He weaves behind Jason as the other demigod swings again, jaw unhinged.

 

Again, Jason falters at the name. Nico’s words have _some_ effect—but every wave of doubt in Jason’s mind is quickly covered with a layer of paranoia. “I’ve been burned by monsters before.”

 

He slashes forward again—this time nicking Nico in the face.

 

“ _Agh_!” Nico recoils, clutching his face in pain. _“ENOUGH!”_

He summons two undead skeletons on either side of Jason. His warriors grab the blond demigod and immediately disarm him. Jason cries out in protest, immediately forced to his knees.

 

As Nico steps forward, the nausea grows in his stomach. He looks to Jason’s battered face. Scrutinizes it.

 

Jason looks back, the hate and distrust evident.

 

“You really don’t remember me,” Nico realizes. Jason really had amnesia.

 

“If you hurt him, I will kill you,” Jason snaps. He spits at Nico’s feet.

 

If it were anyone else, Nico would’ve been angry. But he sees the exhausted image of his friend—someone who he hasn’t seen in four years, and a lump grows in his throat. He brushes a hand through Jason’s wet hair—and murmurs, “Sleep.”

 

Jason is resistant at first, struggling in Nico’s gentle grip—but his head quickly ducks forward, lulled into slumber by Nico’s command.

 

That was one down. Nico turns his attention back to the little boy—Sion, as Jason called him—and takes the sight in.

 

Sion doesn’t run—which, depending on how the little boy took in the whole scene just now, could either be seen as wise or downright stupid. He stares back at Nico, tiny fists trembling and tears mixing with the rain.

 

A moment passes. Then, tiny Sion sniffles, “C-Can you…r-really help h-him?”

 

“I can.” Relief floods Nico’s thoughts. Fighting off Jason was one thing, but running after a toddler after two shadow-travel spouts _and_ everything here might actually kill Nico. 

 

Sion shakes erratically. His shoulders cave in together, gaze never leaving Nico’s. Finally, he nods and waves his hand at the sky. “Bye, rain.”

 

The storm stops immediately. Nico blinks in surprise, watching as rainclouds part and reveal the starry night sky. He looks back to Sion, mouth ajar—but unsure of what to say.

 

He thinks back to when he was a little kid—when he’d run too far from his sister or his mom and was lost. Or what he would’ve wanted if he ever saw someone close to him in the state Jason was in, with a stranger looming over him.

 

Nico’s mouth twitches. “Do you want to play with legos?”

 

 


	2. The Day We Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two nymphs gawk and stare at them as they enter—and Nico supposes they look godsawful. Jason, Sion, and he are sopping wet from the rain. Sion could probably pass for a karpoi rising from the dirt. It’s obvious that Nico got into a fight with someone—and that someone is unconscious behind him. 
> 
> He clears his throat. “Could you let Doctor Solace know I’m here?” 
> 
> One of the nymphs nods slowly, her mouth parted into an ‘o.’ 
> 
> “Tell him it’s Nico.” Nico tries his best not to sound cranky—shadowtraveling three times in a row won’t kill him, but the exhaustion might. 
> 
> Finally, she nods again in understanding, and pushes a clipboard towards Nico. “Y-You’ll need to fill out some paperwork.”

Getting Sion to come with him is terrifyingly easy.

 

In the short half-hour it takes to gather their bearings, Nico can’t stop _lookin_ g at Sion.

 

Sion’s nest of red hair, tangled and knotted with small twigs and leaves. Sion covered in mud, as though he’d spent a few days hiding in a dirt pit. Nico realizes that although the lycanthropes _scared_ Sion, they didn’t surprise him. He counts his eggs, wondering how his elusive aura as the _Son of Hades_ alone hasn’t sent Sion into tears.

 

(Part of Nico contemplates—maybe he’s gotten better. Hazel tells him he’s only softened with age—and even more so after Emily and Marie were born. Another part of him is still wary every time he meets someone new—as though he expects to be shunned for being Hades’s son.)

 

The warmth of Sion’s breath rests on Nico’s neck as the child clenches a fist into his shirt. Nico holds onto the little demigod gently, murmuring soft words as they shadowtravel to New Rome. He senses his two skeletons hauling the unconscious Jason behind him.

 

A tall hospital building greets them—four or five stories high. Nico’s internal clock tells him it’s close to midnight—the graveyard shift. His chest tightens as he feels Sion trembling in his arms, and he coaxes Sion to open his eyes.

 

“That wasn’t too scary, was it?” Nico whispers softly—and his throat clenches.

 

His chest tightens, and his whole body feels heavy as Sion looks at him with those big, blue _Jason_ eyes. Sion studies his face, expression mute but understanding, and nods slowly. He’s eerily calm through the ordeal, and Nico has a frustrating time keeping his expression neutral.

 

Nico brushes wet bangs out of Sion’s face. Sion doesn’t protest—simply taking in the sight of the hospital building.

 

“This place will help Jay?” Sion asks.

 

“Yeah,” Nico murmurs. “This place will help Jay.”

 

Sion nods. He peers over to Jason—still unconscious, being carried precariously by two skeletons who probably couldn’t support his weight. He doesn’t ask any more questions—just waits, to follow Nico’s lead.

 

Two nymphs gawk and stare at them as they enter—and Nico supposes they look godsawful. Jason, Sion, and he are sopping wet from the rain. Sion could probably pass for a _karpoi_ rising from the dirt. It’s obvious that Nico got into a fight with someone—and that _someone_ is unconscious behind him.

 

He clears his throat. “Could you let Doctor Solace know I’m here?”

 

One of the nymphs nods slowly, her mouth parted into an ‘o.’

 

“Tell him it’s Nico.” Nico tries his best not to sound cranky—shadowtraveling three times in a row won’t _kill_ him, but the exhaustion might.

 

Finally, she nods again in understanding, and pushes a clipboard towards Nico. “Y-You’ll need to fill out some paperwork.”

 

Of course he did. Rolling his eyes, Nico grabs the clipboard and makes his way to a seat. He finds the legos—just as he promised Sion, and ushers the baby demigod to play with them. Sion is reluctant—but wriggles out of Nico’s grasp and slowly starts building.

 

Eventually, two nurses arrive to haul Jason away. It’s the only time Sion makes any sort of reaction. He stops dead in his tracks, tugs at Nico’s leg, and points in that direction. “They’re taking Jay away! We have to get him, w-we have to—”

 

“It’s okay, Sion,” Nico reassures. He drops out of his chair and coaxes Sion by running a hand up and down Sion’s arm. “I know this place. They’ll make him better. I promise.”

 

The look Sion gives him makes the hairs on Nico’s arms stand. Again—they’re frightening—threatening, even. Nico sees so much of Jason in Sion—even the protective nature. Then—it disappears. Sion inhales two deep breathes and calms down. Slowly.

 

“C’mere,” Nico instructs. He pulls Sion into his lap like one of his nieces. “You must be tired.”

 

His chest also tightens as he thinks about how _exhausted_ Sion has to be. Nico has inspected the boy thrice times over. There isn’t a scratch on him. For every scratch that’s missing on Sion, Nico is sure there are twice on Jason. Still, Sion was tired and refused to eat. He wanted to make sure Jason was okay first.

 

“Jay…,” Sion whimpers. Nico rocks back and forth, murmuring gentle words in Sion’s ears.

 

Despite the heavy poker face, Sion relaxes in his arms. He clings to Nico’s neck, but his breathing slowly steadies and he drifts off to sleep like any other fussy toddler. Nico thanks the gods that Sion had an easier time falling asleep than his nieces.

 

Good.

 

“Go get Hazel and Percy,” Nico instructs his skeletons. “Tell Hazel to bring clothes for a toddler.”

 

Both skeletons salute Nico and trot out of the waiting room. He can see the nymphs at the reception desk sighing in relief. Nico is left alone in the waiting room, with no one but his thoughts to accompany him.

 

When he was younger, his contemplations would always dissolve into him hating himself in one fashion or another.

 

At the moment, Nico isn’t sure if he can convince himself otherwise.

 

“ _Ack,_ ” Nico hisses quietly. He flinches when Sion’s head dips over his arm wound—where Jason had cut him.

 

 _“I’ve been burned by monsters before.”_ Jason’s voice echoes in his head.

 

Holding his breath, Nico can shut his eyes and see Jason’s face. The distrust. Fear. Anger. He sees Jason’s sickly skin, eyes brewing a dangerous storm and lips contorted in an angered scowl. But Nico’s never seen that look directed at _him_ before.

 

Fidgeting, Nico’s hand curls against the nick on his face.

 

Jason’s never tried to hurt _him_ before, either. Not even when Nico intruded upon Camp Jupiter the first time. (He laughs sourly at the memory.)

 

Time passes slowly. Nico isn’t sure how long he’s been waiting. Eventually, he sees blond curls from the corner of his eye, and Doctor Will Solace comes into view. At first, Nico has to swallow the lump in his throat. Then, he notices that Will is staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Like Will _has been_ staring at him.

 

“Hi,” Nico says tentatively.

 

Will clears his throat and slowly waltzes over, his cheeks a sheepish pink. “Nico.”

 

“Will…?” Nico greets in the same cautious tone. He arches an eyebrow, skeptical.

 

Then, Will flips whatever switch to seem normal again. He smiles, oozing with warmth as he scans both Nico and Sion, and shakes his head. “My bad. Not used to seeing you with a kid, I guess.”

 

Oh, gods. Nico wards off an incoming headache, deciding to stare Will down instead. “How’s Jason?”

 

His intimidation almost never worked on Will. It pissed Nico off to no end, even when they were dating. Instead, Will _studies_ Nico, like he always did—trying to gauge Nico’s reaction and find the right words to say. The Apollo-esque smile doesn’t fade from Will’s face, but his eyes are eager for a diagnosis. “Not much yet. We put him on an IV with diluted ambrosia to help with the wounds. Sang hymns. Ran some tests. He’s knocked out like a light.”

 

Nico clears his throat and averts his gaze. “I knocked him out.”

 

“Oh.”

 

““Yeah.”

 

Silence.

 

“So is that—?”

 

“No idea. I…knocked him out _before_ I got answers.” Nico grimaces. “The only thing he said was not to hurt Sion.” Like Nico would ever hurt a child.

 

Will nods sympathetically—maybe a little too much—and apparently decides one question is enough. He chuckles uneasily. “Percy asked for Jason only yesterday and here you are.”

 

“‘Here I am,’” Nico echoes somberly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“Nothing. Just when it comes to Jason…well, you always deliver.” Will stares at him with a twinkle in his eye—in a way that always annoyed Nico when they were dating.

 

More silence. When they were still dating, their conversations were always filled with Will’s words—about how he wanted to be a doctor, how he loved to surf, how his dream was to sing hymns on a ukulele and cheer kids up in the Children’s ward. He always listened to Nico, even when Nico himself thought his own words were boring. But now, Nico could barely muster anything to say past, _‘Hi.’_

Usually if they’re forced in the same room together, they choose to ignore each other—or Will talks to him casually as though they’d never gone out in the first place. Nico kind of wishes those were his two options now. The way Will looks at him makes Nico squirm in his seat.

 

“I heard you asked for me,” Will converses.

 

Part of Nico badly wanted to say, _‘Shouldn’t you be tending to Jason?’_ Instead, “We may have broken up, but you’re still the best damn doctor I know.”

 

“Thanks.” He sounds even more pleased with himself, but Nico refuses to look. If he looks for Will’s smile, his heart will skip a beat and he’ll feel awkward and out of place all over again.

 

Will gestures to Sion. “Looks like you’re having fun playing Dad.”

 

Nico’s lip curls into a frown. He adjusts Sion’s weight on him and bows his head. “I told you I didn’t want kids.”

 

“I know, I know,” Will responds almost immediately. He shrugs casually. “No kids. With me.”

 

He stares at Nico carefully, not necessarily trying to get a rise out of the son of Hades—but the expression makes Nico’s stomach flop. Will may have looked incredibly unperturbed, but Nico knows a demigod who chose his words wisely. He was friends with a daughter of Athena, after all.

 

A sigh escapes his lips and Nico rubs his temples. “You know that’s not the only reason why we broke up.”

 

“Yeah.” Will shrugs. Just like that, his strategy to irk Nico is dropped. “We’ll split the blame fifty-fifty.”

 

Before Nico can protest, Will brushes a hand across Nico’s face, pressing the tips of his fingers against Nico’s cheek. It feels uncomfortable, but also familiar all the same. Will reaches out to Sion with his other hand and sings a hymn.

 

Warmth fills Nico’s chest. He feels the soft sting of the wound on his face and arm as they dissipate. His hair dries, as though he’d just stepped out of the sun—clothes, too. Will’s melody is the tune Nico used to fall asleep to back when they were still together.

 

It felt… _wrong._  

 

“Nico!” Hazel.

 

“I’ll go check on Jason,” Will says. He moves away from Nico, gentle graze gone. Nico releases the breath he was holding.

 

He gathers to his feet, waiting as Hazel, Percy, Piper, and Frank come to him. Sion stirs, whimpering softly at Nico’s neck. Nico strokes his hair. “C’mon, Sion. There’s a couple of people you should meet.”

 

Sion opens his eyes. He stares at the four new additions—who all stare back at him, taken aback. Then, he curls deeper into Nico’s grip, refusing to be acknowledged.

 

Well—at least he wasn’t scared.

 

“Did you bring the clothes, Hazel?” Nico asks.

 

“I—yes. For you, too.” It takes a moment for Hazel to find her voice. She almost jumps when Nico mentions her by name, but gestures to the gym bag slung over her shoulder’s. “They’re Marie’s clothes, though.”

 

“That’ll do. Let’s go get changed, Sion.” Nico thanks his sister quietly and obtains the bag. He saunters off to the bathroom with Sion in tow. The little demigod is cranky, but compliant as Nico sets Sion down. He wets a cloth found in the bag (he muses the thought that one of the skeletons advised Hazel to pack the surplus of items) and wipes the grime off Sion’s face.

 

Sion yawns. The cleaner he gets, the more he looks like Jason. He peers up to Nico with big blue eyes—obedient as Nico changes him.

 

“You’re very well-behaved,” Nico muses. “I hope you know that.”

 

“I’m a good boy?” Sion asks in a tiny voice.

 

“A very good boy.” Nico’s chest throbs. There isn’t much he can do about Sion’s hair. He combs a hand through it, but Sion yelps as Nico’s hand gets stuck in a knot. The image of a two-year-old Jason comes to mind, going on quests with an oversized gladius in his hands, covered in dirt as he unarmed a cyclops twenty times his size by poking it in the big toe.

 

When he finally finishes, Sion is wearing a pink shirt with the saying, _Mommy’s Little Demigod_ and polka-dotted purple pants. Marie’s clothes indeed. Sion raises his arms over his head, ushering for Nico to pick him up.

 

Once they return to the waiting room, Nico sees Percy, Hazel, Frank, and Piper all stand up from their seats, anticipating him.

 

“Do you want to play with legos, or do you want to sleep?” Nico asks Sion.

 

Sion buries his face into Nico’s shoulder, silent. Sleep it is.

 

“Where are the girls?” Nico asks.

 

“Fred wanted to watch them,” Hazel explains.

 

“Fred?”

 

“The skeleton you sent to come get us.” She shrugs nonchalantly. “He said he’ll trot back here if anything comes up.”

 

“At least yours was nice to you,” Percy grumbles. He looks over to Piper, then rubs his arm. “He knocked on our door and scared us half to death. I cut off his head and he put it right back on before grabbing Piper and me by the hand and dragging us here.”

 

“I charmed him into explaining things to us. In English,” Piper explains. She shudders and leans closer to Percy. “His name’s Andy.”

 

“Impressive,” Nico notes. He arches an eyebrow, repeating their words in his head. “So you two came together.” He clearly recalls Fred and Andy ask for _Percy_ and _Hazel._ Frank is expected, but Piper…

 

(He smacks himself internally. If Leo was still in town, he was going to annoy Nico to no end for not calling for him too. _Of course_ Jason’s two best friends would want to know _as soon_ as Nico found him.)

 

Piper and Percy look at each other. Red flushes Percy’s cheeks and he scratches his arm. “We, uh…well—”

 

“Jason’s here,” Piper cuts him off, unfazed. “Andy said you found Jason.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah!” Percy regains his composure and clears his throat. If it was one thing he was smart about, it was always finding a girl who could keep him in check. His gaze flickers down to Sion, demeanor changing. He twitches. “Is that…I mean… _did Jason shrink?_ ”

 

Nico stares at him, twitching. “Are you serious?”

 

“I can summon a tidal wave with a flick of my finger, Frank can turn into a giant koi fish, and you have a giant three-headed dog,” Percy shoots back. “Piper charmspoke an undead skeleton into speaking English. Jason shrinking into a child is not _im_ possible.”

 

“But that’s your _first_ thought?” Nico snaps. His head hurts.

 

“So then, is he Jason’s…?” Hazel trails off.

 

“I don’t know,” he mutters miserably. Nico sucks in a breath and rubs his temples. Then—he recounts his day aloud. Clothos, lycanthropes, and fending himself off from Jason. Jason’s words. “Sion had summoned a thunderstorm and willed it away like it was nothing. He’s powerful.”

 

The exhaustion from Sion’s powers has clearly kicked in. Nico hears soft snoring next to his neck.

 

“So Jason didn’t remember you,” Piper repeats. She hesitates before asking, “Did he…do you think he remembers me?”

 

A pang of jealousy hits Nico’s chest. Jason probably _would_ remember his first love before Nico. Nico wills the envy away and simply shakes his head. A thought crosses his mind and he looks to Percy. “How did you decide that you wanted Jason to help run the new camp?”

 

“Well, why wouldn’t I—?”

 

“No. When did the thought cross your mind?” Nico cuts him off. “Because the day after the last time I spoke to Jason, I just stopped thinking about him. It’s like he hadn’t crossed my mind in four years.”

 

Percy scans Nico’s eyes for a hidden meaning. “I was…hanging out with Annabeth and Magnus, throwing out stories about when we were kids. Magnus mentioned something about Kymopoleia and wanted to know how Jason was doing. Then I realized I hadn’t seen him in…I guess as long as you have. Four years.”

 

Piper bites her lip, staring at the son of Poseidon. “You mentioned Jason to me and I just—I guess it just occurred to Leo and me that we hadn’t kept in touch with him.”

 

“Jason’s one of my best pals.” Percy’s hand twitches. “It seemed bogus I’d just lose touch with him.”

 

“Yeah,” Nico agrees. “Absolutely bogus.”

 

“Us too.” Frank frowns. “It hadn’t occurred to us until yesterday. Hazel and I’ve been busy with the girls, so we haven’t kept tabs on everyone, but—”

 

“For four years?” Hazel finishes, shocked. “We stopped thinking about Jason for _four years_?”

 

“I think something happened,” Nico says slowly. He goes back to what he saw in his loom—the day that Jason defied Jupiter. “I think Jupiter did something and didn’t want anyone close to Jason to see. Magnus talking to Percy must’ve had a domino effect and we’re all suddenly _remembering_.”

 

“ _Zeus_.” Percy’s hands curl into fists. His gaze flashes with rage and he looks ready to march to Olympus right now. “I’m gonna kill him.”

 

“Don’t you think threatening the King of the Gods will put you in more trouble? Even more than Jason?” Frank points out. His demeanor twists and he awkwardly gestures in Percy’s direction. “Especially since you’re…you know, you?”

 

“Hasn’t killed me yet,” Percy grumbles. “So what’s the plan?”

 

Nico fiddles with the skull ring on his finger. “Convince Jason that we’re not trying to kill him. See what Jason’s account of the whole situation is. We haven’t seen him in the last four years and we don’t _know_ what he’s been through _._ But he seemed…unhinged.”

 

If his expression darkens, Nico can’t tell. He notices how his friends look more uncomfortable by his implications, but says nothing.

 

“We can do that in the morning. Nico—you look _exhausted._ ” Hazel touches her brother’s arm gently, the concern teeming in her tone. She inspects him—the remainders of wounds given to him at the Wolf House, and the unavoidable bags under his eyes. “You can’t do anything to help Jason if you’re running yourself into an early grave.”

 

Nico hesitates. On one hand, Nico understands where Hazel’s coming from. He’s seen enough of his old self today that he doesn’t want to go back to being that obsessive, ragged little boy. On the other hand—he’s angry. He hasn’t seen Jason in _so long_ and he could have _done something_ back then to protect Jason. He wants to do everything he can _now_ to protect Jason. “I don’t know if Sion will want to leave.”

 

“Just ask him.” Percy’s gaze flows back to the little boy in question. “How did you get him to agree to come with you?”

 

Following Percy’s gaze, Nico looks back to Sion. To that soft, shaggy red hair and those bright blue eyes. Sion seemed at peace, comfortable in Nico’s arms. One had to wonder if there were nights where that was different. No one would’ve thought that he’d nearly been taken away by werewolves earlier.

 

“He really does look like Jason,” Piper says softly. She hugs herself, lips curling into a frown. It’s hard to tell what she’s thinking—Nico knew Jason and she stayed friends after their breakup, but she clearly still cared for the son of Jupiter.

 

“That’s the thing,” Nico says. “He saw me put Jason to sleep and just asked if I could help him. I think he _knows_ something’s wrong with Jason. Maybe more than Jason does.”

 

“Have you tried asking him?” Frank asks.

 

“No. But he’s been compliant since I told him that I’d help Jason.” Nico sighs and pinches the space between his eyebrows. “Which only raised more questions than answers.”

 

“Yeah, like if we should pick a fight with Zeus now or _after_ Jason wakes up.” Percy mutters.

 

“ _Percy_ ,” Frank warns nervously, “you’re treading a very thin line.”

 

“Jason has been serving the Gods and running their errands since before he was potty-trained,” Percy protests. He scowls, his hands curling into fists. “He’s been both Juno _and_ Jupiter’s champion since he was two—and is like the _model demigod._ If he can’t please his dad, then we’re screwed no matter _what_ we do. I’ll threaten Zeus as I damn well please.” 

 

Piper brushes a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down.”

 

A wave of serenity flourishes the air. Nico isn’t sure the order was intended for himself—but he sees Percy lax just a little. He weighs his next words carefully.

 

“That’s why you want to build this camp, after all,” Nico says. “You want to help all the kids that are out there, but mostly because you’re tired of the gods doing bare minimum to keep their promises.”

 

Hazel Frank blink, taken aback, but Percy doesn’t deny it. Piper looks ill at ease, but not surprised.

 

Years of going on quests and running errands at the Gods’ will mostly resulted in permanent scars and wounds—with hardly ver a thank you from the deities that directed their lives. Nico knew both he and Percy got the better end of the deal—Hades often attempted to bond with Nico with more chores—and when that didn’t work, tried to “relate” to Nico with what “kids these days” were doing. Percy occasionally saw Poseidon on fishing trips.

 

But kids like Jason? Like _Luke_? Ignorance from the gods is how the war with Kronos was able to exist. Nico knows that Luke’s fate is an inner demon that Percy still faces to this day. Even Hazel—with all the good that she’d done in this timeline, Pluto can’t acknowledge her presence without having to force her back to the Underworld.

 

A camp is certainly a more positive outlet than giving his body to a Titan and trying to bring down Olympus. It’s the biggest “ _fuck you_ ” Percy can say with the lowest risk of getting in trouble.

 

Nico has a feeling that Percy would take Riptide to Olympus and challenge Zeus to a battle right now if he could.

 

“Can you ask Hades if he knows?” Percy asks instead. He’d go _threaten_ Zeus, but he’s not stupid.

 

“It’d result in next to nothing,” Nico predicts. “But I can try.”

 

On cue, Will appears out of the elevator with a clipboard in hand. He pauses, acknowledging everyone there, and mock-salutes. “Howdy.”

 

“How’s he doing?” Percy asks.

 

“Better. But I doubt he’ll wake up tonight.” Will tilts his head, staring at Nico. “You weren’t kidding when you said you knocked him out.”

 

“It was for his own good,” Nico shoots back. “I didn’t want to fight him.”

 

“But it’s true,” Percy interjects. He steps closer to Nico, watching the other demigod from the corner of his eye. “You really did find him. Jason is here.”

 

Will nods. “I told Nico that we healed his wounds from the lycanthropes. I don’t have much else for you—other than he needs his rest.”

 

“So we should rest,” Hazel agrees. She touches Nico’s arm, closest to where Sion was, and squeezes his arm firmly. “We’ll be back in the morning.”

 

“Yeah.” Nico peers down to Sion’s frock of blond hair. Every bone in his body screams that he needed to stay. But Sion deserved a bed to sleep in. “We can go.”

 

*

 

It’s 2AM by the time they get to Hazel’s. Fred the Skeleton gives Nico a wave goodbye before disintegrating in the backyard. Nico has every intention of tucking Sion into bed for the night so he can shadowtravel to Hades—but the young demigod had a terrifying death grip.

 

Sion wakes up for only a moment once his body meets the bed and stares drowsily at Nico.

 

“Jason’s at the hospital,” Nico whispers. He pushes bangs out of Sion’s face. Before he realizes it, he presses a kiss to Sion’s forehead. “We’ll see him again in the morning.”

 

Sion nods softly and curls into Nico’s body. “How do you know Jay?”

 

Nico pauses. He wasn’t expecting Sion to be coherent. Between the park and hospital, Sion had said very little to him. Letting out a sigh, Nico settles into bed, knowing full well he isn’t getting up any time soon. “Jason’s been my friend since I was little. A bit older than you. Fourteen.”

 

“That’s so old,” Sion whispers, in awe.

 

A smile creeps across Nico’s face. “How old are you, Sion?”

 

Sion holds up three fingers. He yawns.

 

“And…how do… _you_ know Jason?”

 

“He _found_ me,” Sion says. “He’s my daddy.”

 

Oh. Nico doesn’t know why, but his heart plummets. A lump swells in his throat, and—

 

“He’s Zeus,” Sion murmurs.

 

—and Nico is back to being confused.

 

“What do you mean he’s Zeus?” Nico moves to sit up. As he moves to sit up, Sion has already passed out. Waiting but a moment, Nico observes Sion’s face. He…isn’t sure what to say. What to think.

 

Leaning towards the edge of the mattress, Nico tries to leave. Sion claws at Nico’s shirt, refusing to let the son of Hades move. Great.

 

He doubts bringing a toddler to the Underworld would be a good idea. Especially anyone with _Zeus_ in their lineage.

 

With a sigh of defeat, Nico settles into bed, allowing Sion to nuzzle into his chest. Exhaustion hits him like a sack of bricks. Before he knows it, he finds himself drifting off to sleep.

 

*

 

_In Nico’s dream, the street is sparse of people. Nearly empty. The dry winter air hits the back of Nico’s throat and he coughs. Snow flutters from above, gracing him with a white crown. He searches his surroundings in attempt to place himself. He stands at the intersection of two hotels—easily twenty stories high, each. Parking lots are stuffed with cars, but most rooms are dark and asleep._

_Walking closer, Nico sees a boy with blond hair._

_A young Jason._

_Ignoring all the red flags, Nico bolts towards the son of Jupiter. “Jason!”_

_But Jason can’t see him. He’s is hunched over in a corner, covered in a worn-down jacket and a dirty blanket. Nico kneels down to Jason’s level, taking in the youthful appearance. This Jason is different—smaller. But as Nico leans closer, he grows nauseous._

_This Jason looks **closer** to what Nico remembers of his friend. A rounder face. Bags lining the bottom of his eyes. The tips of Jason’s exposed ears are blue from the cold, along with the edge of his nose. A black eye decorates his face, along with a gash on his mouth. It’s hard to see from Jason’s dingy layers, but he leans in an awkward way, as though trying not to put pressure on a wound on his stomach. At Jason’s feet is a baseball bat, but if Nico looks through the mist, he sees a gladius. _

_Despite the apparent exhaustion in Jason—Nico can tell from stormy blue eyes that Jason is observing his surroundings. He follows Jason’s line of sight—and sees a nymph entertaining a man not too from them. The nymph is scantily clad. She touches the man—strokes his arm, nudges him. She ushers him into a dark alley._

_Jason clutches the hilt of his gladius with bated breath._

_Minutes pass. Five. Ten._

_The man finally comes out, zipping his pants back up, and the nymph follows slowly afterward. Jason loosens the grip on his gladius._

_What was Jason doing in the middle of nowhere, protecting nymphs?_

_It doesn’t occur to Nico how **quiet** the town was until he hears Jason’s stomach growl. Jason keels over, a groan escaping his lips. He clutches his stomach and shivers erratically. Whimpers. _

_Nico touches Jason’s shoulder and his blood runs cold._

_Jason’s heartbeat is weak. He hasn’t eaten in days, hasn’t seen warmth in **hours.** He could die._

_Inspecting further, Nico’s hand recoils as he feels the chilling heat of blood from Jason’s stomach. A lot of it._

_“Why don’t you have ambrosia?” Nico mutters out loud. He stares at his hand—coated with the red darkness of Jason’s blood. Snow gathers at the palm of his hand, and his veins boil. “What are you **doing**?” _

_Just then, the rattling of a cart gathers Nico’s attention. He looks up to see a lone woman wheeling a cart up the road towards their direction. She had honey blond hair tied back in a tight bun and wore a pristine white chef coat with black piping. A purple ascot adorns her neck and on her coat was a fancily written ‘E.’_

_“Come along!” She shouts to no one. “We’re serving a seven-course meal today! We can’t be late!”_

_She keeps wheeling forward. The closer she gets, Nico realizes that a trail of food floats after her, piping hot with steam emanating from them. The woman pauses as she walks past them, glancing in Jason’s direction—and at Nico’s._

_As she continues forward, one of her dishes falls gently beside Jason._

_The son of Jupiter looks up at the plate. Nico isn’t a food connoisseur, but he notices the plating of mashed potatoes, steak, and lobster. Despite the snow falling above them, the dish remains hot with steam waving above it._

_His entire body trembles with anticipation. Nico can actually see Jason salivating. Jason reaches out with a shaky hand to touch the dish—and curls it into a fist. Ducking his head, a sigh of defeat leaves Jason’s lips and he gathers the plate up. “M-Miss! You dropped this!”_

_The woman pauses. She turns around to meet Jason’s eye and Jason does his best to hobble towards her. “What’s the meaning of this?”_

_“Y-You…dropped…this.” Jason grits his teeth, swaying feverishly. “I h-heard you say you were serving a seven-course meal. Won’t you get in trouble if you don’t have it?”_

_She studies him. “Anyone else in your shoes would take that meal and run.”_

_“I’m not m-most people,” Jason mutters. He holds out the plate, but his face betrays his actions._

_“No,” the woman agrees. “I suppose you’re not.”_

_She glances over at Nico again. Taken off guard, the son of Hades jumps._

_“You’ve helped me more than once now, son of Jupiter.” A paper bag materializes in her hand. “Take this. I’m sure you haven’t eaten in days.”_

_Jason looks reluctant. He inspects the contents of the bag carefully and looks back up in disbelief. “Are you sure?”_

_“Yes,” she says gently. “I’m sure it will aid you well on this trial.”_

_“Trial?”_

_“Yes, yes—I’ll be going now. Goodbye, Jason Grace.” Without batting another eye, the woman ( **goddess?** ) wheels her cart towards one of the hotels, disappearing from Jason. _

_Jason returns to his stump. He pulls out the contents of the lunch bag—a sandwich—and scarfs it down immediately. Relief swells on his features, eyes glistening with tears. The black eye slowly fades away, along with the several cuts and bruises visible. Nico can only assume the stomach wound has dried up and was in the process of healing as well._

_“Peanut butter and ambrosia jelly,” says the woman. She appears next to Nico—no longer part of Jason’s fate. “A favorite, if I do say so myself. The bag is enchanted. So long as he doesn’t lose it, he’ll always find a PB &J sitting at the bottom.” _

_Nico studies her. “You’re Edesia. The Goddess of Food.”_

_A large smile spreads across her lips. She nods in approval. “So you guessed correctly on the first try, Nico di Angelo.”_

_“My mother used to pray to you before family get-togethers,” Nico explains. He frowns, turning back to Jason. “What do you mean he helped you more than once?”_

_“I’m sure you heard it the first time,” Edesia says simply. “I helped him because he helped me.”_

*

 

“Uncle Nico!”

 

“ _Oof._ ”

 

“See, Marie? I told you he was awake!”

 

“I’m awake,” Nico grumbles. He pushes his hair around his face, only to be met with the beaming face of his niece. “Thank you, Emily.”

 

“Yay!” Marie catapults towards the other side of the bed and clings onto Nico’s arm. “We had a slumber party!”

 

“Nuh-uh!” Emily shouts. She yanks on Nico’s other arm. “If we had a slumber party, how come Uncle Nico didn’t play dress up with us?”

 

“Uncle Nico, who’s that?” Marie asks.

 

Nico cocks his head to the side—and realizes Sion is huddled behind him, confused. Sion looks very much awake, blue eyes wide with curiosity. Looking at the little boy, it dawns on Nico that Sion’s not much older than his own nieces.

 

“This is my friend, Sion.” Nico pulls Sion into his lap, rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes. “Sion, these are my nieces. Why don’t you introduce yourselves, girls?”

 

“Hi, I’m Marie!”

 

“I’m Emily!”

“Nieces?” Sion repeats.

 

“They’re my sister’s daughters. Ms. Hazel. You met her last night.” Another thought dawns on Nico. “Do you have any brothers or sisters, Sion?”

 

Sion shakes his head.

 

A wave of relief floods Nico’s mind. Part of him was worried that they’d left another child at the Wolf House. He pushes red hair out of Sion’s eyes and looks back at Emily and Marie. “Sion and I are going to take a bath. Is breakfast almost ready?”

 

The twins shake their heads enthusiastically.

 

“Tell Mommy I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay!” With that, the twins scamper off back to the kitchen.

 

“We’re still working on teaching them how to knock,” Nico muses. He rubs small circles into Sion’s back, who slowly relaxes in his grasp. “You ready for a bath?”

 

Sion wrinkles his nose. “And then Jay?”

 

“Yeah. And then Jay.”

 

*

Sion isn’t too fond of baths. He gets distracted by a toy sailboat long enough for Nico to douse him in warm water. As Sion’s hair turns more red and face less brown, the water turns a gross earthy color. Nico stops the bath halfway through to drain the water and fill the tub again (to Sion’s chagrin.)

 

“We’re almost done,” Nico assures. He playfully splashes water at the little boy, who giggles.

 

Waving his hands around, a cloud forms above Sion’s head. He waves at it enthusiastically. “Hi!”

 

 _What the_ —? Thunder rumbles.

 

Nico drains the tub immediately. “Let’s not do the demigod version of _toaster in the bathtub._ ”

 

“Okay.” Sion nods and waves his hand again. “Bye!” The cloud dissipates.

 

“I didn’t think that was even _possible_ …,” Nico mumbles in disbelief. A Percy thought enters his mind, and he suddenly wants to ask Jason how often the son of Jupiter took showers via raincloud.

 

To his surprise, Sion points at Nico’s faint shadow on the bathroom tile. “Can you travel with that?”

 

Well. “I might be able to get a foot through the portal.”

 

Frank comes in towards the end with new clothes and a towel. “Well aren’t you the regular dad?”

 

“I’ve had practice wrangling a certain pair of twins.” Nico snorts. Pushing aside his bewilderment, he proceeds to toweling Sion off. Sion giggles as Nico tickles him. A smile curls against the Son of Hades’ face. “Feel better?”

 

“Uhuh.” Sion nods up and down. He certainly looked more like Jason with each waking moment.

 

“Good, buddy.” Frank crouches next to Nico. At first, Sion flinches—and Frank saunters back just an inch.  “I made waffles this morning. I bet you’re hungry.”

 

“Do they have peanut butter?” Sion perks up, eyes wide with excitement.

 

“I can put peanut butter on them.” Frank arches an eyebrow, amused.

 

“Let’s get dressed first. Then you can eat all the peanut butter you want.” Nico makes a mental note to buy a big jar of peanut butter before they make their way to the hospital. He reaches for the clothes on the toilet—and pauses. A purple shirt with a lightning bolt and a pair of toddler-sized jeans with the tag still on them.

 

“Hazel did a little bit of shopping this morning,” Frank explains. “Since…you know. Sion didn’t come with a suitcase.”

 

“Probably for the best.” The clothes Sion came in originally weren’t exactly in the best condition.

 

“How about we go eat some waffles and let Nico take a bath, too?” Frank says. He reaches out for Sion amicably. Sion waits for Nico to nod for approval, and then trots off with the son of Ares.

 

Once Nico’s done with his shower, he appears in the kitchen where he’s met with his two niece and Sion laying on their stomachs in the living room, passing around crayons and scribbling in a coloring book.

 

“Sion, can you pass the green?” Marie asks.

 

“I’ll trade you for a blue,” he replies.

 

Frank and Hazel meet Nico’s eye and shrug.

 

“Kids get along so well,” Nico says. He saunters to the Keurig and happily makes himself a mug of coffee. “No cliques, no gossiping.”

 

“Until they realize they’re smarter than you and can take over the world,” Frank mutters. He scratches his head.

 

“Your daughters are perfect angels.”

 

Again, Frank and Hazel stare at him, exhausted. Nico hides a smile behind his mug.

 

At that moment, Sion realizes Nico is there and stands up from his current position. “Can we go see Jay now?”

 

“Yeah.” Nico’s heart sinks a smidge. The instance from yesterday comes back to his mind—yelling, fighting, and Jason’s venomous gaze. “Let’s go see Jay.”

 

*

 

Piper, Percy, and Leo are there to greet Nico and Sion when they arrive. _Only_ Piper, Percy, and Leo. Nico surveys the waiting room, surprised. He holds Sion close as the trio rises from their seats and greets them.

 

“Hazel and Frank didn’t join you?” Percy asks.

 

“Working with the twins. Frank’s trying to avoid another karat-clogged toilet incident.” Nico explains. He arches an eyebrow at Percy, knowing full well Percy was skipping out on his own responsibilities. “I would have thought New Rome would be eager to see Jason.”

 

A pained look crosses Percy’s face and he shrugs. “Annabeth had to go back to work. Reyna’s covering things on the Camp Demigod front.”

 

“And Thalia?”

 

“Artemis wouldn’t let her stay.” Percy’s lips curl into a straight line and he shakes his head.

 

Wouldn’t let her stay, Nico repeats in his head. Much like how Hades wouldn’t let _him_ stay during that meeting.

 

“What’s wrong, Beauty Queen?” Leo directs their attention to Piper, whose eyebrows are furrowed in frustration.

 

“Nothing. I mean—” Piper’s demeanor twists into a grimace and she gestures to their pitiful group. “Everyone’s busy with their own lives. Yesterday was the first time we got together in _months._ We’ve been so busy that we didn’t even notice that he went missing. The more I think about it, forgetting Jason just seems—seems like it was coming _._ ”

 

“But it’s not our faults,” Leo insists. He twitches and starts fiddling with the tool belt around his hips. “We don’t even know what’s going on.”

 

“Leo,” Piper shoots back. She brings her hands to her temples and sighs. “We spent years traveling around the world meeting with gods for Jason’s sake. And then we kept traveling— _without_ him. We never questioned it. It _is_ our faults.”

 

Leo opens his mouth to speak, but finds himself at a loss for words. He scowls at the ground.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nico interrupts. “I’m the one that saw him last. It’s _my_ fault.”

 

He should have gotten up when Jason defied Jupiter. Should have gotten between the two. But back then, seventeen-year-old Nico was too terrified to help the friend that stood by him when no one else would.

 

It’s his fault, and no one else’s.

 

“Look—I’m sure Jason would appreciate that we all feel like assholes for forgetting about him. Let’s cut the blame pizza equally.” Percy wedges himself between Piper and Leo and touches the former on the shoulder. “The important thing is that Jason is _here._ We’ll figure things out from there.”

 

Nico nods reluctantly—which is when he remembers the small child hugging his ankle. Sion looks at him with bright blue eyes, patient and confused.

 

“Oh,” Leo says candidly, staring down at the small boy. “Since when do you have a kid, Jack Skellington?”

 

At that moment, Will hastily marches towards them. “Jason’s awake. And he’s asking for Nico.”

 

*

 

 _Asking for Nico_ and _Where the hell is that son of a bitch_ are two very distinct ways of calling for Nico. While Jason is shouting obscenities on the other side of the hospital room, Nico makes it a point to tell Will of so.

 

“Same difference,” Will says, waving his hand around. He looks ill at ease. Nico once saw Will perform an emergency amputation on a camper, poker face and all. He knows that when Will is nervous, it’s for a reason.

 

“You seem panicked,” he notes.

 

Will hesitates. “He woke up freaking out. We have him restrained. I thought he was going to throw a lightning bolt at me.”

 

“And?”

 

“And he didn’t,” Will explains. “That’s why I’m panicked.”

 

It only takes a moment for Nico to put two and two together. He looks behind him, where the rest of his friends stood, taking in the information just a little after himself. Percy, Piper, and Leo look particularly taken aback.

 

 _“GET! ME! OUT! OF! HERE!”_ Jason’s tone rings in Nico’s ears. A symphony of banging and falling equipment follows his voice. Nico cringes with each plop.

 

“Is that Jay?” Sion asks anxiously. He yanks at Nico’s pant leg, looking up high.

 

“Yes, _piccolino_.” Nico kneels down. He doubts Jason is remembering him in a good note. Pushing hair out of Sion’s face, Nico stares at him with reluctant eyes. “Jason’s…he’s not—”

 

“It’s okay.” Sion shakes his head. His hands curl into fists. “He needs me.”

 

Nico stares at the three-year-old in surprise, but nods slowly. He doubts he’d be able to make it into the room without Jason trying to kill him—but sending a _child_ in his place?

 

“Can I go?” Sion asks, though Nico is almost certain he isn’t asking for permission.

 

Looking over his shoulder, Nico meets Percy’s eye. He nods slowly. “We’ll go together.”

 

Nico isn’t too familiar with the staff at the hospital. He assumes most of them are children or champions of medicinal gods—but he also knows the name _Jason Grace_ is famous in New Rome. That very Jason Grace has two nurses cowering in the corner—scowling, but also as nervous as Will looked.

 

Jason locks eyes with Nico and immediately goes livid. “ _YOU!_ ”

 

“Me,” Nico repeats calmly. He shoots Jason a pressing look, and tugs Sion close. “And _piccolino._ ”

 

He’s never been more panicked and relieved to see Jason in his life. Most of the wounds on Jason look like they’ve healed. The color’s returned to his skin and muscle tone more defined than the day before—but the sneer on Jason’s face is absolutely unsettling.

 

Leather bands bind him to the bed—and Nico isn’t sure how the nurses were able to do that without getting hurt. Medical equipment litters the floor, knocked over in a way Nico isn’t even sure how to describe.

 

And again, Jason glares at Nico as though he’s a stranger. That hurts more than anything else.

 

“Jay!” Sion squeals.

 

“Sion.” The anger fades from Jason’s face. He stares at Sion in surprise. Immediately, Sion runs over and bounces onto the bed. He throws his throws his arms around Jason’s shoulders and whispers something in Jason’s ears.

 

Blue eyes lock on to Nico. The boiling anger and paranoia doesn’t fade from Jason’s face, but it dies down to a distrustful simmer. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Nico attempts a step forward. “Hello.”

 

“You gave him a bath,” Jason says carefully.

 

“We also healed your wounds,” Nico says slowly. He takes another step closer, his hands curling into fists in his pockets. “Well—I didn’t. My friend, Will, and these nurses healed you.”

 

Jason peers over Nico’s shoulder. A frown remains on his lips. He leans into Sion, trying to give as much warmth as possible to the little boy and also show Nico that _He Was Not To Be Messed With_. His voice is steady. “What do you want?”

 

“To help you,” Nico says. Almost pleads. Everything he wants to say piles into another disgusting lump in his throat. He almost chokes, his mind returning to that nineteen-year-old Jason that looked at him with all the happiness in the world and enveloped him in a crushing hug. Current Jason wanted to crush him, alright.

 

Nico doesn’t like seeing Jason like this—blue eyes lifeless and filled with distrust. A hateful scowl.

 

Jason is shaking on the hospital bed—whether from fear or fury, Nico didn’t know. Jason glaring at Nico almost feels like Jason is staring past him.

 

“You really don’t remember who I am,” Nico manages weakly. He forces himself to straighten his stance.

 

“I remember you were there. With the wolves.” Jason’s demeanor twists. “For all I know, you could’ve been the one who sent them.”

 

“I was trying to save you.” Nico attempts to keep his voice steady. Fails.

 

“I can’t trust you,” Jason snaps.

 

The back of Nico’s mouth goes dry. All of his thoughts dance around clumsily in his mind, laughing at his misery. He stands frozen in place, watching as a complacent Jason studies every one of his movies like the devil. “You once told me to take a risk. That you were my real friend. I need you to do the same for me.”

 

It’s hard to tell if the words strike a chord with Jason. He looks between Sion and Nico, his stature faltering, and slowly closes his eyes. Tosses his head back and laughs angrily. “I want to believe you.”

 

“Then _believe_ me,” Nico begs. “I promise no harm will come to you while you’re with me. I—we want you here. To protect you.”

 

Jason stares back shakily, his hands in fists.

 

Nico doesn’t want to be arguing with Jason. He wants to make up for all the lost time there was in the last four years and fill the hole in his chest. The one Will could never quite fit.

 

“Okay,” Jason says finally. He sucks in a heavy breath. “So long as no harm comes to Sion.”

 

Close enough.

 

What happens next is strange. Nico leaves Sion with Jason (which looks more like Sion abandoning Nico for Jason) and attempts to devise a plan with the rest of his friends.

 

“He doesn’t trust me,” Nico explains. His chest hurts. “But he agreed to hear us out.”

 

Percy frowns. “I’m not comfortable treating one of my friends like a prisoner.”

 

“I’m not sure _what_ he is.” Nico shakes his head. “It’s hard to tell when we haven’t had contact with him in four years. He has a _child._ He’s been on the streets for gods know how long—”

 

“Wait.” Leo gaze narrows. “How do you know for sure he’s been on the streets? Who would really turn that handsome blonde Superman away?”

 

With little hesitation, Nico explains his dream about Edesia. They all stare in surprise. “The gods don’t want him dead. At least _she_ didn’t.”

 

“She’s one of the first temples Jason instructed we build.” Piper strokes her chin. “Maybe that has something to do with it?”

 

“I think we need to find out more from him,” Nico says. “We won’t know what we’re dealing with until we get Jason’s side of the story.”

 

“You’ll have problems with that,” Will interjects. They stare at him, startled. “I’m sure you can tell, Nico. He seems off. Like he’s gone mad. I can heal his physical wounds, but whatever’s going on inside his head is another demon altogether.” 

 

“Then we need an expert in madness,” Percy declares. “Dakota.”

 

*

 

“Please untie me.”

 

“While I’d like to do that, Mister Grace, you did try to throw a pair of scissors at one of my nurses.” Will’s tone is light, but it’s easy to tell that he’s annoyed. “Your wounds are mostly healed. You’re in better shape.”

 

From where Nico is standing, he sees Jason contemplating the news carefully. Jason’s stature weakens slowly. “How long have I been out?”

 

“Ten hours, give or take how long Nico knocked you out,” Will says.

 

Jason’s gaze immediately darts back to Nico, making the latter jump. He looks suspicious, yet still reluctant of the situation. “You’re telling me that all of my wounds healed in less than ten hours.”

 

“Hard to believe?” Will asks. The question is loaded. He stares at Jason, letting every one of Jason’s reactions prompt his next question.

 

“Jason.” Nico stands closer at the edge of the hospital bed. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

 

Sion takes the moment to wedge himself between Jason and the railing, closest to Nico. Jason takes notice of it immediately, once again making Nico’s pulse hasten, but says nothing. Instead, his eyebrows furrow together and he grimaces. “I wanted to take Sion to the state park…at night…and we happened across a wolf’s den. I think we aggravated the alpha.”

 

Nico’s demeanor twists carefully.He looks over his shoulder to Dakota, who lingers closer to the door. Jason was hardly keen on Nico being in the room—there was no telling what he would do if surrounded by others. Even if they were all comrades.

 

“You told me earlier that you thought someone could have _sent_ the wolves,” Nico says carefully. “Don’t you remember?”

 

Jason stares at him with confusion, as though the mist was filling his eyes. “No. It was a wolf’s den.”

 

An eerie feeling knots in Nico’s stomach. He resists the urge to rub his temples and sucks in a breath. “You mean the lycanthropes?”

 

“Lycan—what, like werewolves?” Jason stares at Nico in disbelief. “Those don’t exist.”

 

Well, that wasn’t a good sign. Nico swallows the lump in his throat and attempts to gather his thoughts.

 

“Jason—don’t you remember?” Piper shifts the attention to herself, her eyes filled with worry. “We faced King Lycaon at the Wolf House when we were kids. You have to remember. You almost died and I brought you back to life.”

 

Faux-butterflies flutter in Nico’s stomach. He watches Jason sit erectly in the hospital bed, staring Piper dead in the eye.

 

Jason’s blue orbs glaze over, demeanor lax. “You brought me back to life.”

 

“Piper, you’re charmspeaking him.” Leo charges into the room and waves a hand in front of Jason’s face. “I don’t think you telling him he needs to remember is the best thing for him right now.”

 

She shoots a glare at him—but doesn’t disagree.

 

In that moment, Jason snaps back to reality. He stares between the two of them, his lips contorted into a frown. “Who are you?”

 

Both Leo and Piper wither at the question. Much like Nico did yesterday. Nico sucks in a breath, shooting a knowing look to the two demigods, and stares at Jason steadily. “Why did you go to the state park so late at night?”

 

“I wanted to show Sion something.”

 

“Show him what?” Nico asks.

 

“I don’t know— _something_.” Jason’s brow furrows together miserably and he shakes his head. “And we stumbled upon a wolves’ den and it rained. I think the rain scared them.”

 

“Did you know it was going to rain?”

 

“Thunderstorms just follow me.” Jason shakes his head. “Always a coincidence.”

 

Another frown appears across Nico’s lips. He pushes hair out of his eyes and looks back to the others. “And you’re sure that you saw wolves. No lycanthropes.”

 

“It was misty, but I saw wolves.” Jason shakes his head. “Why?”

 

“And you didn’t summon the storm yesterday,” Nico continues. He pauses, recalling that Sion was the one to make it go away. “You didn’t see who summoned it.”

 

“Why?” Jason asks again. Demands.

 

“You can’t see through the mist anymore,” Will deduces. He blinks in surprise. “You lost the Sight.”

 

“Wait. Can that happen?” Percy cuts in. “He’s been in the Legion since he was two. He was _born_ with it.”

 

“And my dad was born a god before Zeus made him Lester Papadopoulos.” Will shrugs. “Not exactly the friendliest guy, if I do say so myself.”

 

“Don’t you start with that, too,” Nico snaps. Will and he haven’t seen eye-to-eye since their breakup, but it didn’t mean Nico would readily let what happened to Jason happen to Will as well. Another thought occurs to Nico and his blood runs cold. “Jason can’t see through the mist anymore—but Lycaon clearly knew who he was. Monsters came straight for him.”

 

“Jason’s a child of the Big Three,” Percy says. His nose wrinkles and immediately, the anger flashes in his eyes. “And he’s made a lot of enemies in the past. He’s got a strong scent.”

 

“I’m sitting right here,” Jason reminds them.

 

“And you’ve been burned before,” Nico responds. He stares at the Son of Jupiter, every gear clicking to place in his head. “You don’t trust us because you think we’re going to kill you.”

 

“You gave me your word that you wouldn’t.” Jason stiffens in his spot, glaring.

 

“We won’t, Jason. Calm down.” This time, Piper charmspeaks on purpose. She brushes a hand on Jason’s shoulder, and immediately he relaxes. A vine of envy twists around Nico’s chest. He wishes he had Piper’s powers last night, so he didn’t have to knock Jason out.

 

“Someone unable to see through the mist, but being exposed to monsters left and right?” Dakota lets out a low whistle and shakes his head with worry. “That would drive anyone to madness.”

 

“Can you cure him?” Nico asks.

 

“I—I don’t know. I’ve never seen this happen to anyone—it’s just a theory.” Dakota bites his lip and fiddles with his thumbs. “But I can try.”

 

“Nico.” Jason’s voice cuts through Nico like a knife, making the latter jump. It’s the first time Jason’s actually said his name in years. His eyebrows knit together, lips curled in confusion. A twinkle of fear flashes in his eyes. “What are you going to do to me?”

 

Nico’s heart aches so much that the pain swells in the back of his throat. He reaches out and places a hand over Jason’s. It’s a lot to ask of Jason. A Jason whose hands are tied down to a hospital bed, eyes bloodshot and body worn from how many years on the street. They haven’t even asked the full story of Jason yet and they were talking about _curing_ him.

 

“Something happened to you the last time that we saw you,” Nico starts.

 

“But I’ve never met any of you.”

 

“You have. And that’s the problem.” Nico ignores the ache in his chest and squeezes Jason’s hand gently. “Will you trust me?”

 

Hazy blue orbs stare at him with confusion. Jason nods slowly.

 

“Okay.” Nico gives the room a quick glance—taking extra notice of Will’s silence. “Trust us.”

 

*

 

Will undoes the leather strap on one of Jason’s wrists, but doesn’t seem happy about it. Nico’s ears flush pink, knowing full well that Will hasn’t take his eyes off of them. No one else says a word.

 

Instead, Dakota waits until Will gives him the signal, and ushers to the other side of Jason. He gulps loudly before raising a hand towards Jason. “Uh, may I?”

 

“You may.” Jason arches an eyebrow.

 

“Yessir.” Dakota puts his hand on the side of Jason’s head.

 

_WOOSH_

In that moment, the room turns black and white. Nico begins to recoil, hand reaching for his sword—but stumbles, as he realizes Jason’s grip is as hard as a statue’s. The color fades from Jason’s face and clothes—and both he and Sion sit frozen on the hospital bed.

 

“What the hell?” Percy shouts. He has Riptide out in an instant.

 

“Charmed to meet your acquaintance as well, Mister Jackson,” a voice says. Bacchus appears beside his son, head dressed in a straw hat and a coconut-shaped cup in his hand. “You should be grateful that I stopped you from doing something stupid.”

 

“Why are they frozen?” Nico demands. He stares at both Jason and Sion, who are as still as a statue.

 

Bacchus stares him down, a straight frown across his lips. “Because you shouldn’t have found them.”

 

“He shouldn’t have been missing in the first place.” Percy frowns. “Mr. D—can’t you heal him?”

 

“No.” Bacchus stares at the Son of Neptune and scowls. “Trouble, Jackson. You always bring me _trouble._ ”

 

“Mr. D, Sir—have you known about this?” Piper asks. “You knew that Jason was like this?”

 

“What I know and what I share with you are two separate things.” Bacchus’s demeanor hardens. He looks over to Dakota, who stares back at him, awestruck. Then he looks towards Nico once more.

 

Nico’s hands shake at his sides. He curls them into fists, heart beating rapidly in his chest. His mind flutters back to “You were there that day.”

 

“Indeed I was.” Bacchus slowly turns his sight to the frozen Jason. Something flickers in his eyes.

 

“What happened?” Nico asks steadily. “Why can’t I remember?”

 

If Bacchus pitied him, it didn’t show. Bacchus’s brow wrinkles together and lips turn into a grimace. He waves his hand, allowing his drink to disappear and merely scowls at all of the demigods that used to be under his supervision. “I won’t answer your questions, Mister Di Angelo. I will only advise you to quit while you’re ahead.”

 

“But what did Jason do to deserve this?” Leo waves his hand at the hospital bed. “He’s _Superman._ Who’d get pissed off at him?”

 

“Stop talking,” Bacchus snaps again. The air around them tremors, and he scowls. “Throw Mister Grace and this boy back on the streets. Pretend you saw _nothing._ ”

 

Rage fills Nico’s veins. From the corner of his eye, he sees Percy gripping Riptide even more tightly. Piper wields him back, but even she looks angry.

 

“Pretend that we saw nothing?” Percy repeats.

 

“Mister Jackson.” Bacchus’s voice trembles slightly. “Curing Jason Grace’s madness will start a war. I will not lose another son out of this.”

 

Another war?

 

“I will only say this once.” Bacchus’s eyes narrow specifically at Nico’s. “You will not find help in our domain. _Stop._ ”

 

With that, he fades into nothingness.


	3. The Day We Gave Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you and Doctor Solace wanting kids?”
> 
>  
> 
> “Excuse you?”
> 
>  
> 
> “Aren’t you two a thing?”
> 
>  
> 
> “No,” Nico snaps.

“What’s going on?” Jason asks. He leers at Nico in confusion, his hands curled into fists against the hospital bed. “Why did everyone just _leave_ all of a sudden?”

 

“It’s…complicated.” Nico lets out a frustrated breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. He watches Jason’s eyes dart towards the door, a scowl at his lips. “Percy’s trying to get a meeting set up.”

 

“For what?” Jason demands. “You told me that I could trust you.”

 

“You _can_ ,” Nico insists. “When did I ever say you couldn’t?”

 

“Because I know how this goes. I’ve been tricked before.” Jason trembles and jostles the leather bind around his wrist. His eyes fall down to Sion at the other end of the room, who’s fiddling with a box of legos. 

 

Nico’s shoulders slacken. He uncurls his fists, realizing he’d coiled them up out of anger. It’d been so many years since he’d been so tense—so irritated at people for not trusting him. Jason’s aggravation is as foreign to him as it is familiar.

 

Looking at Jason now, it occurs to Nico that Jason was just a scared demigod who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. A lot.

 

“I wanted to show Sion something,” Jason murmurs. His posture and expression both soften the longer he stares at Sion. “That’s why I was at the state park.”

 

Studying the other demigod, Nico comes closer to Jason. He curls his hands against the railing carefully. “The Wolf House.”

 

“Wolf House?”

 

“Your mother brought you there when you were two. Lupa, the She Wolf. She basically raised you.” Nico watches as Jason relaxes in the bed with each passing word. Blue eyes stare at him inquisitively. “She’s in the park.”

 

Jason’s eyebrows knit together. “Are you…calling me Tarzan, but with wolves? Because I don’t think they’d let me run around a public park in a loin cloth.”

 

The corner of Nico’s mouth quirks into a grin. The comment is the first _Jason_ -like comment he’d heard from this man in years.

 

“You knew my mother,” Jason says afterwards. The fog returns to his eyes and he stares down at his blanket. “I don’t remember her.”

 

The smile fades immediately. Nico stares down at Jason’s leather bound wrist and hesitantly tugs at a tail.

“You’re untying me.”

Nico’s hand grazes the skin of Jason’s forearm and peers through his bangs. “You’re not a prisoner.”

 

Jason stares back at him with contemplative eyes.

 

“What do you remember?” Nico asks gently. “Before I found you.”

 

Lips pressing into a straight line, the clarity in Jason’s eyes disappears again. Nico watches the bluest hues in Jason’s irises become overtaken by a cloud. A mist. Jason’s eyebrows press together and he cradles his head gently. “I…was in college. I was taking an astronomy class in an auditorium with two hundred other people. Taking an exam.”

 

His jaw tightens and his hands curl around his ears. A bitter smile overtakes his face, eyes storming. His entire body reeks of a darkness that makes Nico cringe. 

 

“The next thing I know, I’m getting pencils thrown at me left and right. My professor was pointing at me and—suddenly I had classmates flinging their textbooks and chairs at me. I’m pretty sure some girl bit me. They broke my laptop.”

 

“You had technology with you.”

 

Jason cocks his head back to Nico, confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

 

“You’re a demigod. A strong one with a strong scent, no less.” Nico’s eyes flash. He contemplates Jason’s memory and scrunches his face. “I bet the classroom was full of monsters. I’m sure they could’ve smelled you a mile away. That laptop didn’t help.”

 

“Monsters,” Jason repeats. He combs a hand through his hair and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re right. Humans can be monsters.”

 

“No, I mean actual—” Nico clamps his mouth shut. Bacchus’s words come rushing back to him—about the _war_. He isn’t sure how much he can actually _explain_ to Jason without getting in trouble.

 

He isn’t sure what Jason’s fate will be by the end of the meeting, either. Nico’s stomach churns with nausea at the thought of it.

 

“What happened after the campus?” Nico asks instead.

 

Jason’s eyes flicker once more, as though his mind was rewiring the hazy memory. “What…were we talking about?”

 

Unbelievable. Nico hides his frown. It was like King Lycaon all over again. One moment Jason was vaguely cognizant of his surroundings—and the next, the Mist was altering his memory. Sighing, Nico tries to figure out the best way to voice his thoughts. “What happened after you went to college?”

 

“Oh.” Jason folds his legs and stares at his feet. “I’ve. I’ve been running. Sometimes I’ll find places to stay. Sometimes I can’t.”

 

_Sometimes gods would help you out without your knowledge_ , Nico doesn’t say.

 

“I can’t trust people,” Jason concludes. He stares at Sion from the corner of his eye. “It’s been like that for years. And with Sion, I…I can’t risk _anything_ happening to him.”

 

At that moment, Sion notices both men watching. A big grin graces his lips from cheek-to-cheek and he waves a red and blue cluster of legos. “I made a airplane!”

 

“You did, piccolo.” A smile curls against Nico’s lips. He leans over as Sion toddles towards them. “You’re good at this. Ever thought about doing it professionally?”

 

“Profesh-ly?” Sion repeats.

 

“Would you like to be a pilot when you grow up, piccolo?’ Nico asks. “Drive airplanes?”

 

“Plane!” Sion squeals.

 

“You trust him, Sion?” Jason asks.

 

Sion looks between the both of them, eyes glittering, and nods enthusiastically.

 

“Okay.” Jason leans back. He doesn’t smile—instead scrutinizing Nico. “That’s all that matters.”

 

Nico’s heart skips a beat. As he ushers Sion to go build more airplanes, he studies Jason’s face. Sees the steady curve of Jason’s jaw, and the blue of his eyes. His hair is unruly, as though it hasn’t been groomed in years. He’s tired. Weary.

 

Even with the haze in his eyes, it’s clear that Jason would have followed through with his threat. He’d hurt _anyone_ that took Sion away from him.

 

“I knew his mother,” Jason says softly. The way he mentions it feels… _unfamiliar._ “I don’t even know if he remembers her.’

 

“I thought he was your son.” Nico blinks in surprise. He doesn’t mention the part where Sion thought Jason was Zeus _._

 

“No,” Jason mutters. “But I promised her I’d protect him. She died in an earthquake.”

 

Nico feels sick. He knew what it was like having someone important taken away from him. First with his mother, and with Bianca. He couldn’t imagine what was going on in Jason’s head with the Mist rewiring his brain every time he was close to figuring out who he was. And if Sion was also a demigod, how did Jason react when monsters came for the both of them?

 

Like he did with the lycanthropes, Nico reminds himself.

 

“Are you and Doctor Solace wanting kids?”

 

“ _Excuse_ _you_?”

 

“Aren’t you two a thing?”

 

“ _No_ ,” Nico snaps. Red burns in his cheeks and he scowls, mortified. 

 

Jason stares at him. “Sensitive subject?”

 

“You ask a lot of questions, even with your memory gone,” Nico grumbles. He rubs his temples. Peering through his bangs, he notices Jason’s inquisitive blue eyes staring at him like a puppy that didn’t know why it was being disciplined. He sighs in defeat. “We dated for a few years. When my nieces were born, he told me he couldn’t wait until that happened for us, and I realized I didn’t want that. With him.”

 

Peering back up, he notices Jason looks even more confused.

 

“ _What_?” Nico demands lightly. Part of him wants to laugh. Here Jason Grace was, sitting across from him with those big blue eyes per usual.

 

They used to sit in the Hades Cabin or Zeus Cabin, Jason listening as Nico rattled on about Mythomagic or Will or any gossip in the Underworld—or Nico listening as Jason excitedly explained all of the temples he wanted to build. Even when they weren’t on the same page, they always enjoyed each other’s company.

 

“Nothing,” Jason hastily says. Clearly Nico’s grumpy demeanor finally instilled fear in him. “You just seem…young.”

 

“I’m eighty-one-years-old.”

 

“Um.”

 

“Long story.” Nico smirks. “When you live a life like we do, being able to make it to _thirteen_ is a milestone.”

 

“I don’t understand.”

 

“No, I suppose you don’t.” And from the looks of it, the gods were going to make it so Jason couldn’t. Nico’s jaw tightens at the thought. Jason was just supposed to continue this life not knowing who he was and getting attacked by monsters. If he could just figure out what _happened_ that day, then maybe things could change.

 

“Your friends are weird,” Jason goes on. He gestures to the hallway, where Percy and the others stood. “One moment, your friend Declan is trying to touch my face, and the next, they’re all huddled in a corner.”

 

“You mean Dakota. You guys were really close when you were in the Legion.”

 

“I don’t know what that means.”

 

“You were a praetor for the Twelfth Legion—”

 

“Nico.”

 

Nico jumps when Jason squeezes his bicep. He whips back and takes in Jason’s face of confusion.

 

“I don’t know anything past the last four years. If you throw words at me, I’m not going to be able to follow,” Jason says. He grips his own head in frustration and sighs. “I’m sorry.”

 

Right. Nico rubs his temples and takes a step back. It _hurt_ him that he felt like he was talking to his Jason at one moment—only to be slapped in the face and reminded that this Jason was the result of the gods’ meddling. Of Jupiter’s wrath.

 

He doesn’t even know where to start to help Jason get better.

 

“If…you guys can’t fix what’s wrong with me,” Jason says slowly, “What’s going to happen? You brought me here. What are you going to do?”

 

Nico opens his mouth to speak. Closes it. He doesn’t know.

 

“Nico.” At that moment, Percy comes into the room. “The meeting’s on. Let’s get to the principia.”

 

*

 

“I don’t know if we should have left him.”

 

“Will’s the doctor. He gets to make those decisions.” Nico wrinkles his nose, matching Percy’s step as they walk towards the principia. From the corner of his eye, he sees Percy’s dissatisfied frown. “Where are Leo and Piper?”

 

“I told them to go ahead.” Percy comes to a halt at a crosswalk, his hands curled into fists and lips curled into a scowl.

 

“Percy.” Nico stops alongside the Son of Poseidon. “You’re _simmering._ You need to stop before we get to the principia.”

 

“I don’t know what to _say_.” Percy rubs his temples and gestures for them to step aside. He looks up to Nico, sea green eyes boiling with absolute rage—before slowly coming off his anger. “This is my fault.”

 

“What happened to ‘cutting the blame pizza equally’?”  

 

“Nico.” Percy sucks in a breath and stares at Nico with more fear than the younger demigod had ever seen in those eyes. “How do I convince everyone that we may need to go through a third war?”

 

Nico’s heart skips a beat. He purposefully detached himself from the conversation with Leo, Piper, and the others. Dakota had been shaken by the sudden appearance of his father, and a good portion of the aftermath of Bacchus’s appearance was spent calming Percy down. Nico was filled with rage, too. _Is_ filled with an unsurmountable frustration over the situation—

 

But—in moments like these, Nico knew better than to be impulsive. Years of grief taught him that he couldn’t be. But Percy? Camp Demigod reflected exactly on how he felt about the gods.

 

“What did Leo and Piper say?” Nico asks softly.

 

“‘What would Jason want?’” Percy repeats bitterly. “We all know what he would want.”

 

“He wouldn’t want us to start another war at the sake of bringing him back,” Nico speculates. He sighs and understands Percy’s frustration immediately. Because—“And if it were any one of us—”

 

“He’d be the first to grab a sword and shield,” Percy finishes for him. His jaw tightens and he storms towards camp with Nico at his heels. “We’ve been through two wars already, Nico. Annabeth has her dream job, Frank and Hazel have kids, Piper and I are—” He pauses.

 

“Piper and you are what?” Nico arches an eyebrow, but he can tell that Percy isn’t going to finish that thought.

 

“Never mind.” Percy stops so abruptly that Nico runs into him. He turns around, his hands curled into fists. “If it were me—I couldn’t ask my friends to go into another war. I can’t do that to my mother again. I can’t—I have—I have a sister.”

 

“And I have nieces.” A lump swells at the back of Nico’s throat. He feels the disappointment pounding in his chest and his hands curl into fists. This morning, he kissed them both on the head and told them he loved them before whisking Sion off to the hospital. He couldn’t forgive himself if he died in battle without ever saying goodbye.

 

Couldn’t put them through the years of torture, years of trying to find him.

 

“But this is Jason.” Percy laughs bitterly.

 

Yeah. This was Jason. Jason, who opened his arms and heart to Nico the moment Cupid revealed his secret. Jason, who spent every waking moment defending him and encouraged him to go on his first date, get his first kiss, say I Love You for the first time.

 

Jason, who Nico never really got to say goodbye to, either.

 

They stand at the edge of Camp Jupiter, side-by-side without a word. In the outskirts of camp, they could see campers sparring in the Field of Mars and others at the foot of Temple Hill. The Principia gleams in the distance.

 

“I could shadowtravel us there,” Nico suggests.

 

“Pass,” Percy grumbles—though Nico can’t help but agree.

 

He wants to prolong this ‘ _no_ ’ as long as possible, too.

 

*

 

This meeting was different than yesterday. Two praetors: Percy Jackson and Mike Kahale. Two centurions from each cohort. Instead of the immense audience from the day before, various demigods were reflected in Iris messages: head counselors in the Big House, Annabeth and Reyna. Even Hazel and Frank, who lived nearby and occupied with the twins, had tuned in via IM.

 

(Assembling everyone was _hard._ Percy wanted Camp Demigod to be a hub for a _reason._ )

 

Nico wedges himself between the rainbow pools of Reyna and Hazel. He listens to Percy monotonously announce that Jason was found, how Dakota tried to heal the son of Jupiter, and how Bacchus warned them against it.

 

“Healing Jason’s memories could start another war,” Percy concludes. He clutches the podium until his knuckles fade to white and stands tall next to Mike. “But he’s sitting there in the hospital, barely able to comprehend what’s going on. His brain just rewires anything god-related like he’s mortal. Mr. D wants us to throw him out on the streets again like a piece of garbage.”

 

His words are met with silence. Every word spoken by Percy drips with more venom than the last. A scowl rests upon his lips, fangs bared.

 

“What did Grace do?” Mike asks finally.  

 

All of Nico’s friends look to him for an answer. He sits taller in his seat, hands digging into his knees, and shakes his head. “The only thing I know is that he spoke ill with Jupiter. I was whisked away before I could see the reaction to that.”

 

 

“Then this war could potentially be against Zeus. Against the King of the Gods,” Reyna says, voice wavering. She stares at him with her calculated poker face, but the terror is imminent in her eyes.

 

“M-Maybe that’s why my father said he couldn’t risk losing another son again.” Dakota clutches his chest, his own body shaking. “He was afraid that he m-might have to…”

 

“He said that we wouldn’t find help from our parents,” Percy explains. “But this is Jason! He spent _twelve years_ as a legionnaire, and as the praetor before me. Even more so, building temples—”

 

“Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth cuts him off gently. Her eyebrows furrow together. The look on her face says all of the things that neither Nico nor Percy wanted to hear. “We’re talking about one life over the lives of thousands.”

 

Percy’s demeanor hardens.

 

Never, in the time that Nico knew the pair, has he ever seen them on the opposite sides of the same line.

 

“We’re talking about the life of your best friend’s little brother,” Percy shoots back. His expression emanates with a silent plea: _don’t have a rebuttal. Please don’t say no._ “We promised Thalia we would try to find him.”

 

“And we _found_ him,” Annabeth argues. She pulls a lock of blond hair behind her ear with a shaking hand, and looks to Reyna for affirmation. “But you’re asking _two camps_ to defy the words of a god and possibly start a war against our _parents_. A war we would lose in a heartbeat.”

 

“It’d be unwise,” Reyna agrees. She places a hand on Annabeth’s shoulder and stares back at Percy. “If Jason was… _coherent_ , then he’d want to prolong a war as well.”

 

The two daughters of war stand firm, but neither look happy with their conclusion.

 

“I know,” Percy relinquishes. His hands form fists and he hangs his head low. Any remaining argument he had seems to die. “I know.”

 

“But if any of us were in his position, he’d try to find a way to save us _and_ prevent a war,” Leo says. He stands to his feet on the opposite side of the table, slamming his fists into the table. He stares at everyone in disbelief. “He’s served this legion for over twelve years and all of you want to just give up on him? What the hell is wrong with you?”

 

“I agree with Leo. We can’t turn our backs on Jason.” Piper tugs at Leo’s arm, pleading for the other demigod to stand down. “We need to restore Jason’s memories.”

 

The faux sense of butterflies rises in Nico’s stomach for just a moment—before Mike Kahale rebuttals. “We need to _not_ charmspeak our forum into doing something stupid.”

 

Mike stares at Piper disapprovingly, only to be met by a glare.

 

“Guys.” Frank speaks firmly, commanding the attention of the room as though he were still praetor. “We have to consider the scope of this war. Jason versus Jupiter. Gods potentially choosing sides and forcing their kids to do so as well. It’s not just _us_ against the gods, it’d be us against each other. _Again._ ”

 

The tension in the room is unavoidable. They’re already watching it unfold between the people closest to Jason. On a scale of thousands, though?

 

Nico feels the nausea raking at his chest.  

 

“There’s the advice from three children of war, Jackson.” Mike crosses his arms and stares at Percy from the other podium.

 

“Yeah.” Percy scowls. It’s just not the advice they wanted.

 

 Hazel’s voice forces everyone to look at her brother. “Nico is the one that found him. Don’t you think we should listen to his advice too?”

 

Once again, all eyes find themselves on Nico. He swallows the sinking feeling in his throat and wrinkles his nose. His eyes follow the different faces in the room—before finally stopping on two demigods in particular.

 

The last four years of his life were spent as a representative for his father. He was the only one who could call themselves an ambassador to his godly parent. What would Hades do in a situation like this? “There are only two people in New Rome that could heal Jason’s madness.”

 

Pollux and Dakota both stare back at him, nervous.

 

“They hold Jason’s fate.” Nico feels the cool eyes of all of his friends and comrades. He feels Piper, Leo, and Percy staring at him with heavy gazes. “Whether we should heal him or decide to prevent another war.”

 

Peering back to the two praetors at the front of the room, Nico notes the look on Percy’s face. Even Mike seems to consider his words.

 

“I’ll agree to it,” Mike says finally.

 

“Yeah,” Percy says carefully. “Me too.”

 

A quick survey of the centurions and head counselors ends with a round of nods.

 

“Well? What do you two think?” Mike asks. “Do you think we should heal Jason?”

 

“Yes.” “No.”

 

Both brothers stare back at each other, surprised.

 

Percy deflates and Nico sucks in a breath. Great.

 

“Another stalemate,” Mike grumbles. He clears his throat. “Fine. Here’s my solution.”

 

*

 

Keep Jason Grace in the dark, but don’t kick him out of New Rome.

 

It was the most noble solution that the Son of Venus could think of without compromising everything Jason had done for the Twelfth Legion and starting a war with the gods.

 

The rest of the meeting ended just as glumly. Nico intervened as Percy and Annabeth butted heads—a first for him to see. He’d always known Annabeth for keeping Percy in line. His early teenaged years were spent wearing envy-colored glasses, watching on as Annabeth and Percy treated each other as though they were the only two people in the world.

 

Back then, when his heart beat with a pang of humiliation and anger every time he saw Percy’s smile. When he both _hated_ Percy with a passion and wanted nothing more than for Percy to give him one of those charming grins. He’d locked those feelings away in a lead-lined chest at the bottom of his heart, only for Cupid to pry it open for all to see. For _Jason_ to see.

 

_“Maybe take the risk that I’m your friend and I’ll accept you.”_

Nico stands in front of the statue of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, the words replaying in his mind—over and over, as though they were laughing at him.

 

The imperial gold Jupiter leers down at him, the lines of his face carved into a neutral expression. For a child of Hades, Nico can practically _see_ those electric blue eyes sparking with displeasure. Jupiter clutches the lightning bolt as though he wants to smite Nico, right there and then.

 

_You already missed once_ , Nico muses in his head. The irony, really—for all the years Hades and Zeus feuded, it took one Golden Boy to beg a Ghost King to trust him.

 

And for what? Nico bows his head, having to stifle a bitter chuckle.

 

He might as well have _burned_ Jason, like all of the other demons the amnesiac demigod spoke of. Nico didn’t stand up for Jason that day. He _forgot_ Jason for _four years._

 

Jason—who he confided in about asking Will out. About his first kiss, the first time he said I love you—who he cried to the first time Will and he got into a fight.

 

How could he just… _forget_ that?

 

The night Will and he broke up sweeps into his mind like a tornado. Will looked at him with those eyes, staring at him inquisitively, but not surprised when Nico suggested they part ways. Will was _calm._ He’d basically said, “Okay,” and went back to studying the medical textbook in his lap. Nico had pre-packed all of his things and shadowtraveled them to the Underworld.

 

Once they were broken up, he spent the evening staring at his ceiling, restless for the first time in years. His chest was heavy, hands shaking with nervous energy. He wanted an outlet, but every word was stuck at the back of his throat. Nico had gone to Reyna, sitting in her office for an unknown amount of hours and trying to describe how he felt. Everything with their breakup felt _wrong._ He wanted something, but he didn’t know _what._

“I wanted Jason,” he whispers to the statue of Jupiter. His voice echoes in the temple. Nico’s jaw clenches.

 

He wanted to shadowtravel to wherever Jason was, tell him everything that felt _wrong_ about his relationship with Will, and be held. He wanted to see Jason’s smile and be swept up in those electric blue orbs. He wanted his friend.

 

But for the last four years, he had no idea that was what he wanted. Jason’s name was like the word at the tip of his tongue—a shell of a thought in his mind.

 

Now the thought confounds him. He spent the last four years _without_ Jason—just as he did before the Second Giant War. Yesterday he told Clothos that he was happy and at peace with his demons. Today, realizing he’d lost Jason long ago and would never get him back was like a sword through the heart.  

 

_You could just disappear again_ , whispers the voice at the back of his head. If he forgot Jason again, then Nico wouldn’t feel pain like he did now.

 

Had the last two days not happened, Nico would be on his merry way back to the Underworld in order to do Hades’ bidding. His routine since his breakup with Will was to visit both camps, his nieces, and his father down in the Underworld.

 

There was really nothing else that could hold his attention. Not since Will. And—ironically, Jason had been the one who pushed Nico to ask Will Solace out.

 

Leo and Piper made it clear that they planned to stay in New Rome for the time being. Jason would be in good hands—just like he was before they met and before Jason devoted loyalty to him. Jason doesn’t need him.

 

_C’mon, Di Angelo._ The voice in his head laughs in his face. They both know he doesn’t want that. Jason may not need him, but Nico doesn’t want to forget him again.

 

A new voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Oh—hey, di Angelo. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

 

Immediately, Nico wipes the tears at the corners of his eyes and clears his throats. He’s met with the face of Magnus Chase when he turns around. “Magnus. I would have thought you were back in Valhalla.”

 

“I was,” Magnus confirms. He rises above the steps of the temple and stands next to the son of Hades. “Had to get approval from Helgi and the board in order to get the blueprints to the hotel. Annabeth’s going to try and figure out how to make a floor dedicated to the new camp.”

 

“I see.”

 

Silence.

 

At this point, Nico expects Magnus to awkwardly wave before they part ways. They’ve never said much to each other. The last time Nico’s mind wandered to Magnus Chase was when he died. As a sign of moving forward with Annabeth, Nico went down to the Underworld in query of where Magnus had ended up. He understood what it was like to lose a relative without any closure.

 

When he couldn’t _find_ Magnus, a disgruntled Hades told him not to waste his time searching.

 

“Alex wanted to bother the Minerva kids. Something about seeing what their pottery studio looked like.” Magnus studies the statue, his expression much less sour than Nico’s own. “So this is Zeus or Jupiter or whatever, huh?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“He looks pretty serious for a God of Thunder.” Magnus shakes his head and grimaces. “Thor’s a pretty chill dude, but you wouldn’t _believe_ how much he farts.”

 

“That’s disgusting.”

 

“Believe me—even more so when you’re in the same room as him.” Magnus snorts. His tired eyes show his age despite being stuck in the body of a sixteen-year-old.

 

There’s a glow about him—about _all_ the einherji that leaves Nico unsettled, as though every ounce of his demigod lineage is screaming that Magnus Chase shouldn’t _be_ here. The other part of Magnus—his mop of blond hair and golden summer skin—also makes Nico uncomfortable. Parts of Magnus reminds him of Will—and others of Percy, and of Annabeth.

 

(A part of him groans. Staring at Magnus Chase makes him feel like an awkward fourteen-year-old again.)

 

Nico suppresses that feeling. He sucks in a breath and shakes his head. “Jupiter isn’t quite as… _relaxed_ as that.”

 

“I’d rather not find out.” Magnus shrugs. “Thor’s all… _outdoor-sy_ looking. Nothing like the movies. Big red hair. Loses his hammer a lot. Weird to think about how two gods of thunder can be so different.”

 

“It’s what happens when different cultures have different beliefs.” Nico wrinkles his nose and peers up once more. “Odin and Zeus agree that their realms should remain separate. It’s why you can exist outside the rules of the Underworld. Why you refer to the illusions as _glamour_ instead of the mist.”

 

“Er, right.” Magnus clears his throat and smiles back sheepishly. His grey eyes flash good-naturedly in Nico’s direction. The brief moment of discomfort fades away, and something about his expression reminds Nico of Jason. “I heard you found Jason Grace. You work fast.”

 

“I have my sources.”

 

“I’m sure.” Magnus gives a low whistle and shakes his head in disbelief. “Percy and my cousin have only said good things about you.”

 

Part of Nico’s heart warms. It took him a long time to get to that point.

 

“So,” Magnus starts slowly, “why are you looking at this statue like you’re visiting a grave?”

 

Right. Nico pushes his desire to snap at Magnus for even asking the question. He bows his head, hoping Magnus can’t see his frustration. “I’m going away for a while.”

 

“What?” the other demigod sounds shocked. “Why? I would’ve thought you’d want to see him after so many—”

 

“It’s complicated. There are a lot of things to do with this new camp and I—I don’t know if I can be a part of this.” Getting the words out alone causes Nico’s voice to tremble.“He’s got a good support system without me.”

 

“Oh.” Magnus sounds surprised, but he doesn’t pry. Surprisingly so.

 

“Would you like me to elaborate?” Nico asks tiredly.

 

“I mean—do you want to?”

 

“No.” Turning his head, Nico is met with bewildered grey eyes. He takes a mental step back and shakes his head. “I expected you to be more intrusive.”

 

“It’s…okay, man.” Magnus arches an eyebrow.

 

“How do you do it?” Nico asks finally. His hand grazes his cheek, where Will had healed the scar from Jason. “How are you in a relationship with Fierro without overstepping your bounds?”

 

If Magnus was taken aback before, it shows even more now. Red explodes in his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose, his mouth falling ajar. Nico supposes that the son of Frey didn’t expect to stumble upon the son of Hades on his venture and be asked about his _love life_ of all things.

 

Eventually, Magnus’s ministrations are summed up with a weak, twitchy shrug. “I mean. Alex and I aren’t… _together._ But he likes to keep me around.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I can’t… _not_ be intrusive. My powers are personal.” Magnus stares at his hands and awkwardly stuffs them in his pockets. “Every time I heal someone, I get their deepest, most private thoughts. I’ve been lucky to have close friends that are open with me. But not everyone is like that. Alex didn’t like me in his head. I only healed him when the situation absolutely called for it or when I had his permission. We don’t talk about the things I see unless he wants to. I want him to come to _me_ with his problems because he feels like he can. You know?”

 

“I know.” Except every time Nico felt distraught, he didn’t go to Will. He went to Jason, until the latter coaxed him to go to his boyfriend. He lets out a sharp breath—

 

“Do you…know why that broom is moving?” Magnus points to a broom sweeping the other part of the temple.

 

“Deverra’s broom. It’s used to cleanse temples of evil spirits,” Nico explains. “Jason had one crafted for every temple built.”

 

“There’s a goddess of… _brooms_?”

 

“She’s a goddess of midwives and labor.” Nico snorts and shakes his head. “But her name means, ‘ _To Sweep Away._ ’ Jason asked if she’d feel more appreciated if her blessing was given in every temple rather than a measly one of her own.”

 

Magnus lets out a low whistle. “Jason sounds like he’s a thoughtful guy.”

 

Nico’s chest aches. He ponders the words carefully. “Yeah. He really is.”

 

*

 

There was a time when shadowtraveling to the Underworld was disorienting. Nico’s bones used to rattle as he stepped foot in his father’s throne room. His heart used to pound violently, as though it wanted to leap out of his chest and into the palm of his father’s hand.

 

But now, over a decade since Nico found himself in the twenty-first century, the Greek fire torches are comforting. Hades’ skeleton servants greet him with toothy grins and ghost maids give him chilling smiles, as though the living son of Hades belonged in the realm of death. Over time, Nico found himself at the receiving end of family dinners instead of looks of disinterest and speeches about how Bianca would have been better.

 

He steps into the throne room, watching Hades quietly discuss something with Thanatos. The God of Death turns to Nico, ebony lips curling into a skin-crawling smile. The gleam in his eye reminds Nico of Clothos—like he was asking, _What choice will end you?_ His _demeanor_ is very much Eros.

 

“Ah. Nico.” Hades turns to face his son, a pleasantness teeming in his tone. As he stands to his feet, he walks towards Nico and slowly shrinks until he stands only a few inches taller than Nico himself. He smiles warmly.

 

“Father,” Nico greets.

 

“You were up in the mortal plane much longer than I expected this time around. How are the grandkids?”

 

“Emily and Marie are fine. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye before I left.”

 

“What’s this I hear about a _suit_ I’m commissioning from Clothos?”

 

“I believe the aurae called herself _Cassie_ , my lord.” Thanatos’s voice rings as smooth as leather.

 

“Sweaters for the entire family, father. I figured you’d want to get a head start on holiday photos,” Nico explains. “Her waitlist was horrid.”

 

“I’m sure my beloved would love that.” Hades strokes his chin and grunts. “Very well. So long as I get to wear black.”

 

“Yes, father.”

 

“Let’s go eat dinner. I believe Persophone had the maids prepare Frosted Flakes tonight—”

 

“Actually—” Nico steps in his father’s way. His heart skips a beat as Hades looks at him with questioning eyes, and he plants his feet to the ground. “I had a request.”

 

“And what would that be?” Hades arches a knowing eyebrow. “Would this have to do with the _real_ reason you were with Clothos?”

 

Nico grimaces and nods slowly. “I want to know what happened to Jason.”

 

Hades’s demeanor hardens. He stares at Nico ominously, expression giving away nothing. “He isn’t dead. That is ‘what’s happening.’”

 

“But he’s barely alive, Father.” Nico sighs in frustration and suppresses his anger. He knows better than to anger his father. “He doesn’t have his memories, he can’t see monsters—and he’s still getting _attacked_.”

 

“You’ve done quite enough,” Hades responds. He pinches the bridge of his nose and begins to walk down the hall, with Nico trekking after him. “Just be happy he isn’t dead.”

 

“But he’s _important_ to me.”

 

The words stop Hades in his tracks.

 

“I know that he’s a son of Jupiter, but—” Nico’s composure cracks. “What _would_ have happened if he died? Would I’ve even noticed? Would you have told me?”

 

“That’s quite enough.”

 

“Father,” Nico continues, unable to contain himself. The anger boils at the pit of his stomach. Anger for Jason. “He was the first one to find out who I really was. He _begged_ for me to trust him. _He_ did _._ Not the other way around.”

 

Hades peers over his shoulder.

 

“Jason has devoted his life to the Legion since he was two. He slayed Krios and fought Gaea. He welcomed Hazel with open arms and built shrines for minor gods—even for your children.” Nico stands taller. “Would you say that being stripped of his memories and his powers is a _fair_ death?”

 

A sigh falls from Hades’s lips. He turns his head and rubs his temples in a human manner.

 

“What happened that night after we left?” Nico asks agaim, regaining the firmness in his voice.

 

“Why are you testing me like this?”

 

“I’m not trying to test you. But this is important to me.” Nico’s hands curl into fist and his chest tightens. “Bacchus. He warned us that if Jason was healed, a war would ensue.”

 

“And you come to me, Lord of the Dead, asking to begin this war?” Hades scrunches his face and scowls. “I don’t enjoy my realm being filled with countless souls. I don’t want my peace to be invaded by a ghastly number of foolish mortals caught in the fire of this war.”

 

“No. You prefer fairness.” Nico’s jaw tightens. “Is it fair for Jason Grace, son of Zeus and Beryl Grace— _slayer of Krios_ —to rot until his death?”

 

“Was it fair for Bianca to die?”

 

“No.” Neither of his sisters deserved the early deaths they received. Chest tightening, Nico knows Hades is fighting back with powerful arsenal.

 

But Bianca’s death doesn’t consume his life anymore. Can’t.

 

“She chose her death.” Nico’s hands coil and uncoil at his sides. “People like Sion’s mother don’t deserve to die when they have children to take care of. People like _my_ mother. Their death is inevitable—but you know it isn’t _fair._ ”

 

The last part of Nico’s argument seems to touch Hades the most. He peers down at the young demigod, his poker face wavering only slightly, and presses his lips together. Finally, he sighs in defeat. “Very well. I much prefer Jason Grace over your previous suitors, anyway.”

 

“What—?”

 

“I won’t tell you what happened to Jason Grace that day—”

 

“But—”

 

“But you can tell me what you _think_ happened to that little boy the night his mother died.” Hades stares at him with a gleam in his eye. “I will let you know if you’re in the right direction. Nothing more.”

 

“Hera killed his mother in an earthquake.” Nico swallows his anger, splaying all of his culminations from today for his father. “She found out about Zeus’s affair and—this time, he didn’t do something to pacify her.”

 

“That is where you’re wrong, my son. Hera didn’t kill anyone,” Hades says. “It was Sif.”

 

*

 

Sif, the earth goddess and wife of Thor.

 

The _wife_ of _Thor_ , the Norse god of Thunder.

 

Nico replays the titular gods in his mind over and over while shadowtraveling back to the surface. It was the only piece of information Hades was willing to give him, before saying something along the lines of, _Now, do you want to eat Frosted Flakes with chocolate milk or regular milk?_

 

He stares at the glowing sign of the New Rome hospital, mind running a mile a minute. _WifeofThorNorseGodofThunderEarthGoddessSifWifeofThor—_

Why would Sif interfere if Zeus had an affair? Who was Sion’s mother?

 

“What did you _see_ , Jason?” Nico whispers to himself. He takes long strides towards Jason’s hospital room, where he has no doubt Percy, Leo, and Piper will be. Something Jason saw put him in harm’s way with the gods—

 

And surely, if the King of the Gods made a mistake, Percy wouldn’t stand for Jason being punished for it.

 

His heart and head come to a halt as he makes it to the front of Jason’s hospital room.

 

Jason is important to _him._ Nico can’t stand for whatever Zeus’s musings are, either.

 

“Nico!”

 

“Annabeth.” Nico blinks in surprise.

 

The last he’d seen of her was at the other end of an Iris Message in the principia. He takes in the entire room, stunned. Annabeth and Reyna, Hazel and Frank. Piper, Leo, and Percy—Alex Fierro and Magnus Chase. All of them surround the room in physical form, staring at him like deer caught in headlights.

 

Jason sits there, body elongated, with Magnus’s hands on either side of his head. As his eyes flutter open, electric blue irises rise to meet Nico’s gaze.  

 

Nico’s breath catches in his throat. He stares back at Son of Jupiter, noting the true clarity in Jason’s eyes. “What’s going on here?”

 

No one answers him. Everyone looks too scared as Nico peruses the room with hope of an answer.

 

It’s finally Jason who speaks up. “Magnus healed my eyes.”  

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
